Poetry in Motion: World Series Haiku


Cardinals bullpen.
Youth’s flowing fountain runs deep,
Like hot, fresh cheese fries.

Sports bar bathroom reeks,
Yet within: community.
Bros pee, united.

Love thy neighbor, dawg.
Boston: The Pixies. Sam Adams.
St. Lou: Jon Hamm. Busch.


Wild pitch: nature
returning the ball back home
to the rubber trees.

Ortiz: ogre of hope.
A knack for dingers, local
ads for mango salsa.

Umps’ obstruction calls
Are like death: sudden, final,
And too weird to judge.

Jim Joyce: God or fool?
Only the mongoose can say.
She is nature’s ref.

Uehara! Thunder.
Steel sternum, grit, stoic soul.
Until he giggles.


Chewed tobacco: flame’s
breath spits brown fear. If swallowed?
Call Poison Control.

He who steals a base,
In turn, has further swiped the
spirit of the badger.

To err is human.
Yet regret’s wounds fill with salt


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