a baseball game in the rain
she says but you don’t know
how i spent monday worrying
thinking maybe she’s off too and visiting you there
like the two of you are out to lunch
laughing and smoking her cigarettes on some street
and i nod, quiet and contemplative before i speak
realizing coldly that human beings can only know each other so well
and reassurances in times of great doubt
are a comforting as smog
as good as watching a baseball game in the rain.
into the traffic of this brave new world
the morning newspapers
call new york city a cesspool
and i think they must be reporting
right from the street that i’m walking on
with sewers stinking of day-old piss and feces
as cars and trucks billow yellow smoke
into the traffic of this brave new world
where the sun doesn’t so much shine down its warmth and light
but reflect a soft cancer that keeps killing us all
John Grochalski is a published writer whose poetry and prose have appeared in several online and print publications including: Red Fez, Rusty Truck, Outsider Writers Collective, Underground Voices, The Lilliput Review, The Main Street Rag, Zygote In My Coffee, The Camel Saloon, and Bartleby Snopes. I have two books of poetry The Noose Doesn’t Get Any Looser After You Punch (Six Gallery Press) and Glass City (Low Ghost Press), and a third book, The Sun Causes Cancer forthcoming. His chapbook In the Year of Everything Dying can be viewed via Camel Saloon’s Books on Blogs series (http://booksonblog26.blogspot.com/).
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