O Knucklehead! My Knucklehead!

O Knucklehead! My Knucklehead!

Sleek, slim-limbed, spryful, soaring over field, through sky!

Light as a lark, yet tiger-fearful on the charge!

Champion of the summer morn, seizer of the game!

What game? All games! Baseball! Soccer! Boy-chase-dog!

Kick-some! Sprint-some! Joy-some! Boy-some!

All blond and bone and sinew and song and lunging for the day!

 

Papa was an English Major

Declared, at four years old.

In books, in films, inside himself;

Without it was too cold.

 

O Knucklehead! My Knucklehead!

Conqueror of rock and foam and spray!

Kayak Captain! For whom rivers unroll, lapping and laughing you away

To where? Who knows? To water’s end! Where only the bruised, sloshed, sun-seared and soggy

May learn the water’s heart and dreams. She only gives this up

In the star-strewn night to those who have chased and have raced with her,

And have been wildly tossed and flung down her path like hope before Youth.

 

Papa’s summer boyhood days

As well were filled will glee.

Through book and screen I took my sport

Intravenously.

 

Catcher of the diamond! Commander of the field! Colossus of the plate!

Made Man by the armor of the Baseball Gods, heaped upon he and he alone!

Joined for battle, and battle comes! Wild whipping fastballs, summoned at his command

Biting, hissing, snarling, breaking; all to him! All at him! All danger hurled his way!

Come runner! Whether gunshot or cannonball from third, come you who would score!

Rhinoceros your way to home, he’ll smite you with his mighty tag! Joust him off

His station, splay him sprawled – no matter! – you’ll not cleave from him round Rawlings

Clutched to breast! Not his home! Not by thee!

 

My Knucklehead, as I grow gray,

Reaches down to me.

It’s he to I, not I to him:

“Come with me! Come with me! Come with me!”

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One Response to O Knucklehead! My Knucklehead!

  1. Hahaha I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. This was hilarious!! The whimsy of your extended metaphor form is well.. as bountiful as the courage that dwells in your lad’s sporting heart. (I can’t even write like that, lol). I lol’ed my way down the page. 🙂

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