Bleachers Girl Poem by gershon hepner

When my girl sits in the bleachers
catching carefully my balls,
she becomes the best of teachers
in the sweet pedantic halls
where no commentary equals
scores that she observes aloft,
on those nights when we as equals,
playing hardball, starting soft,
slowly, never supersonic,
climaxing when each one scores,
near as dammit both synchronic,
privately in pubic wars.

Inspired by an e-mail Linda sent me, thanking me for a poem called “Slump, ” and signing off as “BleAchers Girl”:

I can't believe you made this into a love song! ! ! It's so great!
And you will never lose my darling, you are a WINNER and I ONLY BACK WINNERS
As for striking out, this way, don't say 'even', say when, when you strike out this way...
Much love xxxxxxxxxxxxxx BG*
*(Bleachers Gal)

Home run boy
I employ
To run for me
To run for me!

Home run man
He truly can
Hit home for me!
Hit home for me!

Strike out guy,
Into the sky,
A win for him,
A win for me!


2/19/05