Dear Watching the Phillies,
From the moment
I started copying my dad's damn its
And watching torpid
In the Old Veterans Stadium
I felt one thing was real:
A double-bind so tight it squeezes my balls -
From my leftys & righties
To those hanging, on all fours.
As a thirteen-year-old boy
Wasting so much time on you
Dreaming of coming into the tunnel,
Then seeing myself
And hot damn I ran.
I ran in and out every turnstile
And out every ground ball for you
I called out for hustle
You gave me a hustle
And that came with so much more.
I watched through my sleep and haze
Not because you were very good
But because the TV was too loud.
I watched every inning of YOU
Because that's what I do
When someone hugs you so tight
You can't hardly breathe.
You gave a thirteen-year-old boy his Phillies dream
And I'll always curse you for it.
Because I'm obsessively trapped forever.
Next season will be proof of that.
My heart will take the pounding
My eyeballs will handle the scorch
But my body will be happy to see you.
My friends really question me.
But I want you so bad
I know that we'll be back together
And that you're the one
And that I'm pretty sure
And we both know, no matter what you do next
I'll always be that dude
Sitting in the upper deck
Tapping out on Twitter
5-7-5 syllables of haiku
About the bullpen
Phone - uh, yeah, phone - in my hands.
1 ... 2... 3... strikes you're
Love you always,