Third Base (I Don’t Know)

The lonely internet poet
is no different
than the loneliest
of all
who came before
played baseball
as routine


A penny to escape our history

Only penny
I didn’t have

forgotten nerve
to tell This man his

little girl

back of me ending
the line

relieved And were right

schedule for
our dark corner’s


In Massapequa

Mendy, in Massapequa,
something to say:

“Massapequa Mendy,
a callused, arthritic hand,
another smooth, dextrous
one, placing it by the wall.
Mendy, the street light,
Massapequa’s, wondered,
it shines different, altered,
binding, understood,
something to say.”

Mendy, in Massapequa,
something to say:

“Having something to say,
an alright state, obtain.
Not usual, not unusual,
Mendy, to obtain.
Pushing into felicities,
this fact. Newly hatched fact,
Massapequa – who,
something to say.”

Mendy, in Massapequa,
grappling, nothing said;

A variation of frequencies,
and the settling of stones;

Mendy, considered.
Previous, his longtime,

in Massapequa, also,
something to say.