Member Poem

I don’t
know what
you’re playing,
but it’s baseball.
Round the bases
run home.
And you’re
the batter,
you swing your
bat, you hit
whatever comes
your way.
Kissing,
murder, pinball,
science, all
actually always
baseball: Points
are nothing, scale
is nothing:
Just keep
making contact,
just reach
first base.
As long as
you’re not out,
you’re in.