Face slick with the sheen
of last night's cocktails,
mild malaise mingles,
malingers, mangles meaning--
one too many? two too many?
Not a threepeat or hat trick,
not even a turkey, two-thirds
of a strikeout.
Call the next batter,
circle him on the deck
in cleats instead of boat shoes,
masquerading as first mate,
the love you hate.
Rain delays are canceled
for the season,
extra innings aren't free,
and you'll pay one way
or another.
No one gets out alive.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
Intrusive rhyme bothers me, except as a weapon.
Intertextuality is my passion.
Formalist/ New Critical are my guiding theories.
My words are mine, not a robot’s.
MA English literature, CofC
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.