Kidd  Wadsworth

Center Field

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I’m listenin’.

 

I know my job.

Nothin’s gettin’ by me.

In the dugout door,

Coach lazy-leans,

eyes almost closed.

We’ve got a snooker going

when the slugger comes to bat.

 

I’m listenin’.

 

Chatter’s pickin’ up.

Only once I glance her way.

Southpaw.

So I sashay

a might

toward right.

 

I’m listenin’.

 

Think about it, batter.

I’m so little.

Maybe coach played me out of pity.

 

(Maybe not)

 

Go on, hit it to me.

I’m not lookin’ your way.

I’m just watchin’ these moths meander.

 

CRACK

 

Cheetah legs spring.

Mine!

No! Lost in the lights!

There—

Dive!

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That's three.