Artistry from Glen

Of Mere Whiff

The scoresheet at the end of the mind
Beyond the last inning, reads,
In the bronze distance, 10-2.

A bald-headed bird
sings over the scoresheet, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a four-run song.

You know then that it is not the final score
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its head shines.

The scoresheet stands on the edge of space.
The wind moves slowly above and below its numbers.
Dave Eldridge gave up two runs.

Of Mere Whiff

The cherry at the end of the mind
Beyond the last inning, looms
In the bronze distance.

A well-heeled Republican
Swings his arms on the asphalt, without human meaning,
a foreign dance.

You know then that it is not the score
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The Republican swings. His pitches glide.

The perfect ERA stands on the edge of space.
The pitches move slowly down the pike.
The two crushing doubles pop the cherry.

-- Wallace Stevens, 1954