Bay City Bombers by Alan Catlin

They were the women’s beer league
champions four years running.
Most were built like Bay City Bombers
after Raquel had left the team, all, that is
except for the pitcher, short fielder, and
second baseman, all of whom looked
like pixie dusted vestal virgins but were
known to scream like harlots when their
men went down hard where it mattered.
The MVP was part Calamity Jane,
part Blaze Starr, an authentic bad momma
who liked to play softball while the sun
shined and hard ball all night after post game
parties. “I’m the MVP all right,” she liked
to say in between shots of Ole, “Most
Valuable Pussy.” Made the police blotter,
the six o’clock news, and the DWI Hall of Fame
all in one night, driving so far over the limit
she was medically dead. Created a drive-in
door and window, totaling a car and a Stewart’s
Convenience store, in one go.  Was quoted
as saying, after the EMT’s scoped her for
obvious signs of injury, “I never felt a thing.”

Alan Catlin
Alan Catlin is the poetry editor of His latest books of poetry are American Odyssey from Future Cycle and Last Man Standing from Lummox Press

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s