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Baseball Canto

Rating: 2.7

Watching baseball, sitting in the sun, eating popcorn,
reading Ezra Pound,
and wishing that Juan Marichal would hit a hole right through the
Anglo-Saxon tradition in the first Canto
and demolish the barbarian invaders.
When the San Francisco Giants take the field
and everybody stands up for the National Anthem,
with some Irish tenor's voice piped over the loudspeakers,
with all the players struck dead in their places
and the white umpires like Irish cops in their black suits and little

black caps pressed over their hearts,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Gale 28 February 2007

Great poem! An easy tenner given here. Baseball is the sport of America just as the hambuger and hotdog is. God bless all poets-MJG.

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