these are the dog days
and I feel like the rookie
called up to take the place
of an injured Superstar
stuck at the bottom of the order
striking out each
time I get to home plate
she always pitching
me curves
and I always swinging
knowing even as I do I will miss the ball
and she will get to gawk at me
as I crawl back to the dugout
I want to wash that smug
look off her face
with a hit if not a
home run then a bunt
just as long as I get
to reach first base safe
and look as to how I can steal second
without getting thrown out
her curves
distracting me
her lips and her
intense eyes
her smug expression
that tells me with each third strike
better luck next time
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