baseball poem #1

i walk past gate 11 at the rogers centre

and i see an 11-year-old boy sitting on the concrete steps

eating a sandwich before the game with his stepdad

chicken sandwiches that his mom made for them to save money

she got the deli meat from st. joseph’s bakery in st. catharines

a little polish bakery on facer st

it’s still there, still feeding that polish and italian neighbourhood

i walk past gate 11 at the rogers centre

i see that boy waiting in line

red hair, freckles, and a baseball mitt

some snacks that his mom packed him for the game

ranch flavoured bugles

no internet

just baseball cards and magazines and a book about his favourite player: 

second to none

i walk past gate 11 today

older now, longing for that moment

for facer st. and those childhood memories back home

(fastball, off-speed, curve


90 feet 

run down the line

an exit velocity of over 25 years

and a launch angle that sends me back to that time)

i was an 11-year-old boy eating a chicken sandwich before a baseball game on the concrete steps near gate 11

i remember it like yesterday

 bat flips are poetic
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