For what its worth, we did warm it up,

we pressed the wrong button, stroked the wrong key,

visited the wrong minor league park,

no one was playing,

but the grass was there , laid out for us.

and the time flew by us, flies by.

Swept away by us, and the managers, and the fireworks at the end of the night.

and we fought to get our hands on it ,

to hold onto the granules that blew in from the enormous wind,

The label says low fat but I don’t think its really low fat,

The skies say fireworks but I don’t think its really firework’s.

just like I don’t think these are the major leagues,

I don’t think these chalk lines line up,

and this is what I am coming to grips with now,

coming to blows with it, feeling for the clouds.

There’s a lot of baseball recently,

and this is what I am coming to grips with despite enduring longer pauses from just about everyone,

If I can even get it out, that is.

despite always having to slow down, despite my excitement

regardless of the speed, or speech, or anything special, at all.

These are not yet the major leagues, not quite.

If I can even get it out, any of it, that is.