for Winthrop Watson
The grass raw and electric
as the cat's whiskers.
3 and 2.
At secoond the runner: loiters:
nervous as the corner
junkie: loitering for a connection.
Hunched like the cat, the batters;
his prehensile
bat he curls and uncurls.
The pitcher hitches & hitches.
At last the hitcher pitches.
"It gets about as big," Ty
Cobb said, "as a watermelon seed.
It hisses at you as it passes."
The outfielders prance like kittens
back to the dugout.
They've seen what they're glad they
don't have to worry about.
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