-Columbus Park Incident-

Inching the stiff, the blue denim's unforgiving

cuff above the knee, the terrible wound is exposed,––

Its flap of torn flesh, pleated like an accordion’s bellows

is hung at the edge of rawness. 

and to make matters worse I was called out at second,—

called out by Albert "Rags" Ragonesi 

the usual pick-up umpire who couldn’t play ball

worth the butt of a benchwarmer.

It was a hook to remember,—  the slide into second, the wake

of dust beneath the hanging glove of Bobby Petrillo, its pocket

filled with baseball,— the tip of the sneaker hooking the bag's

right-field corner in a move as slick as lubricant.

now the wound, the slide's last testament,

stings like the tail-end of an angry wasp

as I hobble across the infield to the backstop where

from the bubbler of the fountain the coolness of water

is palmed to the wound's raw flesh while the game is paused

like a silent stretch splitting the 7th.

Quequechan, 1953