|Will you write the poem That brushes me back? That chases me To the warning track?
|The verse that comes at me With spikes flying high? That blinds with the Glare of a sun-filled sky?
|Will your words flow With a shortstop's ease, Then stop my breath Like a suicide squeeze?
|Will your poem smack Like a fist in the glove? Will it quicken the heart Like the game I love?