Nonets
Xs and Os. We play and replay. This game, so simple, does not end. Hardly ever a winner. I block you, you block me. Why then the pleasure Drawing our lines Choosing sides Once more Cat. Oakland. The 80s. The Bash Brothers. The A’s at the Coliseum. We were proud fair-weather fans Clueless about baseball Strangers in this land Doing the wave Then taking The BART Home. Your pregnancy, weirdly, starts counting From the last day of your menses And becomes a numbering Of dreamnights, fatigue, hope, Crackers, elastic, Baby name books “No kid yet?” Then, boom! Kid. Playing bumper clouds in the ether Me steering my nimbostratus You hotrodding your cirrus Angels jump to save their skins Skywind on our face When we’re racing Feels like we’re On cloud nine. At first you can’t hold them all at once Dropping some, smashing one by chance Till you become more careful Cherishing what is left Sifting them for clues Till finally You are down To one Life.