Quindrant Poetry:
At Moe’s and Joe’s *
The Braves Won *
October 1, 2003

I. after a few beers i start yelling “throw the high cheese!” it echoes through slot canyons bouncing off buttes in the prickly night sky let’s see that echo on instant replay – no, never mind, let’s see bob dylan beat newt gingrich’s ass across the golden waves of grain purple beaches, majestic dunes I sit and watch the lunar sunset fall through the ocean salt water echoes throb slowly barely audible, welcome sunshine welcome night welcome shooting stars blazing comets

II. the guy who put the money in the jukebox went back to bulgaria hank williams doesn’t care sleeping forever in the backseat of a coupe de ville dead grouchy marxite commies dialectin’ bad economic shit in the trunk oncoming semi throws a brushback pitch that’s ok, just mash the throttle into next week meet me in st louis , I’ll absolve you of all sins, and all good deeds become one with the non bell curve revel in the misdemeanors committed

III. moises alou looks skyward crosses his heart, adjusts his cup takes ball four swinging the ghost of casey stengel zips across the emerald outfield visible only from the underbelly of the goodyear blimp which shivers and contracts slightly before dropping an astral goodyear meteorite on third base it lays unnoticed until the winning run trips rounding third and the stadium utterly explodes the end thank god who cares braves win!

lV. my cucumber was in a pickle my foot stole your shoe my other foot astride the buttes of outer kitschy key west watching an asteroid crash on a mesa outside west palm beach making waves from here to the pancake plateaus of alpha centauri riding the high cheese locomotive train expresso con loco con gusto

V. short stops, sac flies and ground rule doubles describe the universe better than gravity or string theory if physicists played baseball the world would be a better place if the universe had more parking and more traffic i’d move right in

by the floating poet boys