The Shoebox - Day 10

Scott Garrelts
P - Giants
#533, Score, 1988

From the obstructed view you clock
what all the sawdust rubes do not:

the tall man on the mound is only
a crafty giant spelling lonely

innings in the breezy harbor.
Eyes see not the greasy ardor

you hear in the leather's POP,
the futile swing, the bullet drop

of umpire thumb and round-the-horn.
The beam before your eyes has torn

the bandage binding art to game.
These hometown fans are all the same

with their peanut shells and silkscreen jerseys--
the God of Francis, in His mercy

will cause the firmament to shake
for sins of thinking they were awake.