Saturday, February 19, 2011

Rogers Hornsby (1924)




Rogers Hornsby  (1924)

Winters, Texas, is a county away
from Bronte and Tennyson,
and Rajah says,
Ain't a decent saloon between 'em.
November ice coats the road
in from Abilene.
He is back home in Winters
to conduct a baseball school.
Not a one of these kids
will get past Ty Cobb,
that sonofabitch,
the way I did with a bat.
He glares out the window
of Mrs. Barton's Boarding House,
juggles three biscuits,
his hands strawberry-jelly-sticky.
I don't mix, just ballpark
and hotel.  I hate musicals.
Reading kills a batter's eyes.
Dinner with anybody,
other than a pretty gal,
is worthless piss.
The nearby baseball field
has an inch of ice over it.
Even if Winters is inside
hell freezin' over,
the Chamber of Commerce
better pay me a bonus
or I'll torch the house
I was born in
to clear the air.



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