Barry Spacks
The Poet's Game


The poet's game
is baseball
because every spit, wacky
third-base signal
each organ-blare
the green green grass at Fenway
counts (even, a bit,
the score).

And the poet's music
is jazz
because when Bird plays "Cherokee"
he never even
gets back to the tune
which is also
always
nonetheless

there.

The journey
marimbas
along the ribs

to imply
the spine.

Oh, and the poet's soup
is Minestrone.