Dreamgirl This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
   She was afraid

and needed me to protect her;

without my sacred dreamgirl

I'd be stuck here all alone

clinging to the memories of what once was,

drowning myself in a TV baseball game

but instead,

I wish and want and desire and lust for

my sacred dreamgirl,

with flowing red hair, a glass of J & B in one hand,

her artwork in the other, or is it mine?



WAIT! STOP!



It's no use; I'm coming back into my lowly existence,

channeling my passion for her into caring

whether or not the Red Sox beat the Orioles.



I wish she still needed me - I need her.

I wish the umpire made the right call - he was out by a mile

It's the same damn thing.



Images unclear, unreal, distant, remote

from me.



Love, a split-fingered fastball, I have neither.



At one time, I struck out Big Johnnie Tardiff

in a little league game



At one time, I protected her



they lost - she left




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

13blkrosez said...
Oct. 20, 2008 at 11:49 pm
i love this poem, i like the way you switched between the ball game and talking about the girl to tell your story, its beautiful and i want to see more of you writing
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback