Patrick Frank

Badness Fades

I play ball with the kid pitch my curves and sliders
and fast balls and he hits some of them to the base of
the railroad tracks echoes and echoes back from the
falling down and deserted storefronts sunlight is
warming my skin and warming his this is early spring
in the South all of the kid’s badness fades after he
raises his fist and cries out I can play ball on a
team he says this summer or maybe next year I keep on
pitching my junk to him he strikes out a few times
but smashes some six home runs to the base of the
railroad tracks his reading and writing lesson can
wait for a while this homebound boy now has no curses
on his lips

back in the library his shadow ignores me and does not
smile but I don’t care

Far Away

a call for Massachusetts about a job but I am too far
away and the girl does not believe I will ever show up
in my rattle-trap car the tone of her voice says no