O

By PETER FILKINS

As the deaf-mute grocery clerk

puckers curious to a chorus “O”

to ask what kind of mushrooms

he should be ringing up, I think

 

of Ortiz and last night’s double

sailing like a lit-up vowel

toward the bleachers in center-left,

the outfielder unsure if it might

 

carry The Monster or carom off

when, in fact, it hits the warning

track, goes dead, toppling the fielder

 

painfully into the dirt, Ortiz

on second, me mouthing “oyster”

to the reaches of the Mystic Big Y.

Peter Filkins is a poet and translator who teaches at Bard College at Simon’s Rock. His books include After Homer and The View We’re Granted.
Julia PikeO

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