THE CURE

baseball is a good antidote for death
where else do we mutter belief scream
hope over green grass bathed
in light where else do we coach the best
out of one another

it’s all right baby
you can do it
settle down guy
you’ll be okay just hang in there
we need you buddy
we need a spark
be the ignitor man

our whispered pleas combine over rows
of seats and peanut calls and pour into the ears
of our boys fixing them
with our best hope the best we have to give

nowhere else do we do this together
reverently from some untapped place
in our chests save for our children
and our lovers we thought we’d used it up
bur listen to us croon making our voices
carry just the right mixture
of love and demand

our throats are sore
the peanut shells under out feet flattened
from jumping up and sinking down again
our hearts extended
pumping belief
into this one afternoon

you can do it
you can do it for us now
do it now come on
do it now

(“The Cure” was originally published in LINE DRIVES, 100 Contemporary Baseball Poems, editors Brooke Horvath and Tim Wiles, Southern Illinois University Press.)