When my team is playing good ball,
words flow from my pen
as clean as a line single to right.
My metaphors take flight and fall
in the reader’s lap out in the bleachers.
Inspiration comes to me,
as brilliant as a manager’s hunch
to go with the hit and run.
But when my team has lost five in a row,
my words seem frozen in the batter’s box,
much like a batter fooled by a called third strike.
My metaphors never bounce past the pitcher’s mound,
and my similes prompt the crowd
to roundly boo my creative efforts.
Inspiration fails me,
as deflating as a final 11-0 drubbing.
So, Mr. Manager, get your team to do better.
Then maybe my literary work will be a hit.