BASEBALL AND GOD

WEARING A NEW BELT FROM SHOE STORE REPAIR IN UNIONTOWN,

OLD VAQUERO COWBOY LEATHER FROM THE MAN FROM GUATEMALA,

(THE BELT ITSELF A GIFT), THE BELT SEWN IN MAGNIFICENT 
BLUE THREAD, HILO, BELT ITSELF, CALLED CINCHA IN GUATEMALA, NOT CINTURRÓN, AND LIKE HE SAYS, AT THE PIRATE GAME IN PNC PARK, 
HE ARRIVES IN THE NEW TERRITORY HUCK TALKS ABOUT, 
THINKING OF GERARD MANLY HOPKINS AND HIS FAILURE 
TO GIVE UP POETRY. AUGUST WILSON'S HILL BEFORE HIM

Sitting in sunshine over Sixth Street Bridge,

two days after dark,  dreaming deep,

baseball in Josh Gibson's town, wipe

what can be cleaned, clean. Shelling

peanuts, neither a Tiger nor Pirate,

remembering historic Topp cards

from North Dakota childhood,

the small paperback of early ball parks

with hand-drawn stadium illustrations,

some ownership surfaces, looking out

at Allegheny River, saying three rivers

chant-like, saying too, Chicago, St. Louis,

Cincinnati. Thinking back to rivers,

the GQ article on 21 books you don't have

to read. No surprises. No need to list

21 books he doesn't know about--hey,

who knows? Knowing who he writes

for is fresh application of after-shave

for 2-day old beards at after-game

base ball bars. This Friday morning

exploration in a home-coming

strange hotel, can't get its mind

off Hopkins, his promise to relinquish

poetry after saying final vows.

Jim Bodeen

27 April--1 May, 2018

Pittsburgh, Pa