(from 2006 - some notes, some poetry)
foreplay.
baseball.
we cried in that japanese basement. work was finished,
we had no home
no home to go home to.
i dreamed of BASEBALL.
hold up that mighty bat.....
boys dream of this moment.
i swing , i miss....swing, miss....swing ,miss...
for some reason, this game makes boys into healthy men.
one time i dated an old school, east village woman, carla.
in the 80's,
she told me,
she had had
the best ass
on 2nd avenue.
we met late one night at that coke bar, 119,
near union square.
the bar staff where i worked
used to go there after closing.
for a while, 119 became a habit.
women waiting up late, for something... i would wait ,too.
looking back, i know there was no point in waiting up past midnight at a bar.
most of those folks needed some kind of drugs. i just wanted to meet a girl.
with carla,
uplate that night.
just staying up late....waiting....
a few days later, we agreed to meet on a sunday afternoon,
at her old haunt walkers in tribeca.
it was the world series. one of her few healthy pursuits was baseball.
we watched the whole game.
this was 15 years ago, so i don't think the yankees were in it...
after beers,we went to her place
it's true. the great game of baseball is also great foreplay!
i should have said 'this was great'. we'll have to make a date for the same time next year. we'll watch one of these baseball games together, have a few beers, go back to your place.
it was never the same after that. another date or two. just wasn't the same without baseball. i think that's why she would go out late,hope for drugs....
