Hey, let’s baseball together! You and I, let’s go to the ballfield. I’ve got my mitt all oiled and ready to throw! We could do the old home run! You show up at 5:00, 4 innings deep, top of the 9th in Chi-town stadium. We get the boys together and make a day of it. You could have seven runs on the diamond or none at all, foul baaaaallll! Goin’ out to the big game, Red Sox and Yankers! People don’t appreciate the arts of a baseball. 3 more walks and we’re going to the movies! Popcorn and pepperjacks, just like Poppa used to tell me ‘bout. Stickball, nannerhoosies, five or six of them in the pocket. Out on the pitch we’ll all run around, team! Pick your five, I’ll pick my 6, you can play shortstop if you know how to punt mickeys. I have 7 RBI’s! I’m a pinch hitter for a southpaw out in right-field pitching relief for a bought team, and you know I’m not counting pop flys. “Yooou’re out,” they say, but I’m in the hole, in the dugout, ready for anything. I’ll NEVER be out. It’s the dawn of the anthropocene and we’re all sliding into home, sharpening our bats and chalking the ball. Make it count! We’ve only got one shot at this. Team on 3!



You wanna come?


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