cut! cut! cut! / another in a series of bad mood poetry

damn the founding fathers

screw the dow jones industrial average

damn the cockeyed decisions of the council

made for "the common good"

screw the umpires and batters and the girls

who shag foul balls in their prettiness

damn the rich and the poor and the working class!

––a few years back, during a downpour in the middle

of the 5th, with the game in a rain delay, and the tarp rolled

across the infield, the live-on-air television camera

zoomed-in on a solitary young man sitting in the abandoned stands

as everybody else skedaddled for shelter,–– and when the camera

zoomed-in on him, drenched as a fish, glistening in drab-

green polyester poncho, he pantomimed: “fuck you!” with its

internationally affirmative middle-finger gesture.

that guy, that fish of a man, pissed-off at the world because

the world had wronged him again; that guy was God! I loved that guy!

well,...screw him, too.