That day on the Diamond

Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered, weekend weary,
Over many a various mishap
Of a quaint, nay, one might say nostalgic
summer’s day.
Bereft of plan, myself, my friends Dan and Stan
Met some miscreants at the local park,
and there we dared to play
A most wholesome game, just as would any patriot
of baseball’s hall of fame.

Only now do I dare (or frankly have the strength)
to write,
But I feel I must; I must reminisce
upon the twists and turns
That nevermore will bring me to play
As might the Raven be quoth to say
“a simple game of bat-and-ball.”

It happened just today, right out there,
in part of my chamber’s view.
At first, it was a lark, an icy cooler with new friends,
Just a day and a game in the park.

The sun was a bit too bright; I blinked.
And a little minx bounced into view.
My blinded eyes, my stumbling feet,
My bubbling belly, that overcooked meat.

A Raven cried, “It’s your hide” "don’t slide.”

Bats were cracking, balls were flying, beer was splatting.
I was laughing at a raven chatting.
Did I really hear a raven quoth,
or did it just cackle?

“Wait until tonight and he feels the bite.”

It was just as I slid my butt to second base:
My grass stain grew and grew
Till my sorry a*s turned blue.
Head still ringing, vision beer-clear,
Nine perfect innings I wasn’t winning
Just recounting, hell, I mean counting,
Counting them in dog years.

Tormented by the sun’s hijinks
And that little minx who kept bouncing
And bouncing up and down in my view,
My crossed eyes, my tangled feet,
That overcooked meat.

And again, I heard that Raven quoth:
“Better watch your phone.”

I cry alone.
I broke my phone.
I stumbled, fell on my face. All I meant,
All I meant to do,
Was throw a ball or two.

Quoth the Raven, “Feel the heat"”
Nay, I refuse defeat!
I tapped a grounder, tapped the keg,
I tapped a tap and laughed: I am the man!
I have the strength of microbrew;
Returned the kiss the sun gave me,
Ignored the bruise, the battery bite.

But the Raven croaked, “Wait till tonight.”

And now, at last, woe is me,
Pen in trembling hand, two blurry eyes
Can barely see
The fine print glowing on my phone?
Warranty
Void if damage is deemed negligent.

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”