A Sestina On Some Lines By Yogi Berra - Poem by Jesse Weiner
the future ain't what it used to be,
it seems like the past coming back again,
like an open book, a dime store novel, a new mistake.
the Dodgers are leaving Brooklyn, O'Malley said,
and it looks as though I'll relive that day over
and over, like a looped film I can't stop watching.
you can observe a lot by watching
Dodger fans and Yankee fans, the series would be
a way for a man to show his character over
beer and baseball on black and white tv. the Yankees
wait until next year, the Dodger fans said.
rooting for Brooklyn seemed a tragic mistake.
I don't want to make the wrong mistake.
it's all a matter of knowing who's watching,
remembering everything that's ever been said,
the Dodgers are gone, we won't be
the same in this city again.
but still, those days refuse to be over.
it ain't over til it's over.
maybe it was all a mistake
and the Dodgers will come back to Brooklyn again,
time will reverse, and we would be watching
ourselves rush backwards to the moment we came to be,
undo our pasts, take back the words we said.
I didn't really say everything I said.
it sounds so different when I say it over.
better to leave it be,
the past works to spotlight the mistake
on a stage with everyone watching.
attendance for this one is falling again.
it's deja vu all over again.
like echoes, I hear those words I said,
floating like shadows and here I am, watching.
the Brooklyn Dodgers, like a page turned over,
are leaving for California, but whose mistake
is it supposed to be?
it's all a game I keep watching, even though it's over.
you're hearing what I said, is it a mistake
to be listening again? what else could it be?
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