Ten-Cent Beer Night

Cleveland Stadium, Tuesday, June 4, 1974

 


Ballpark hot dogs are sticks of dynamite
thrown in the visitors' dugout. Lively crowd!
What can go wrong at our Ten-Cent Beer Night?


A buck'll get you plastered, snookered, tight.
A boozy dame flashes her pitcher's mounds:
hell, yeah! The place goes off like dynamite!


Fergie Jenkins crumples: a sharp line drive
has drilled him in the gut. Thousands applaud
physical pain at our Ten-Cent Beer Night.


The Cuyahoga River's come alive
with flames and fumes as red as the bad blood
between these teams whose trash-talk's dynamite.


Some lout launches a sucked-dry jug of wine
at the Texas first baseman. Thunderbird.
Dozens of streakers at our Ten-Cent Beer Night.


The backstop ump gets conked above the eye:
a PA voice begs, "Please respect our grounds."
They pelt the 'pen with dime-store dynamite.


They snatch the base-pads, brazen, in plain sight;
toss cherry-bombs. The outfield's a smoke-cloud.
Not enough cops at our Ten-Cent Beer Night.


The Rangers and the Indians unite
with brandished bats to fend off the sloshed mob.
A SWAT team's called. Tear gas breaks up this fight
at Cleveland's first and last Ten-Cent Beer Night.





Poetry by Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 44 times
Written on 2022-06-27 at 07:49

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
It's nice to know that Ohioians, normally buttoned-up, can come unbuttoned under the right circs.

Great poem, loved it. Fifth line wins the "most original" award.
2022-06-27