Chicano Poet

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Gone Fishing

My girl has love-handles
thought Henry
as he grabbed her

and kissed her on the mouth.
At that moment
the doorbell rang.

He looked through
the peep-hole
at Mr. Bones.

They were going to the ballgame,
to watch the Yankees
play the Cubs.

It was tied
at nothing nothing
when Babe came to the plate.

Wham! There it goes
into the right field seats.
A fan reached up

just in time to disappear
as Indians fished
the Hudson with nets.


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