Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HOMETOWN PIECE FOR MESSRS. ALSTON AND REESE, by MARIANNE MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HOMETOWN PIECE FOR MESSRS. ALSTON AND REESE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Millennium,' yes; 'pandemonium!' / roy campanella leaps high. Dodgerdom
Subject(s): Baseball; Brooklyn Dodgers (baseball Team); Sports


To the tune:
Li'l baby, don't say a word: Mama goin' to buy you a mockingbird.
And if that Mockingbird don't sing: Mama is goin to sell it and buy a brass ring.-?"
Millennium, yes; "pandemonium"!
Roy Campanella leaps high. Dodgerdom
crowned, had Johnny Podres on the mound.
Buzzie Bavasi and the Press gave ground;
the team slapped, mauled, and asked the Yankees' match,
How did you feel when Sandy Amoros made the catch?
I said to myself-pitcher for all innings-
as I walked back to the mound I said, 'Everything's
getting better and better.' " (Zest, they've zest.
'Hope springs eternal in the Brooklyn breast.'
And would the Dodger Band in 8, row 1, relax
if they saw the collector of income tax?
Ready with a tune if that should occur:
Why Not Take All of Me-All of Me, Sir?)
Another series. Round-tripper Duke at bat,
Four hundred feet from home-plate; more like that.
A neat bunt, please; a cloud-breaker, a drive
like Jim Gilliam's great big one. Hope's alive.
Homered, flied out, fouled? Our "stylish stout"
so nimble Campanella will have him out.
A-squat in double-headers four hundred times a day,
he says that in a measure the pleasure is the pay:
catcher to pitcher, a nice easy throw
almost as if he'd just told it to go.
Willy Mays should be a Dodger. He should-
a lad for Roger Craig and Clem Labine to elude;
but you have an omen, pennant-winning Peewee,
on which we are looking superstitiously.
Ralph Branca has Preacher Roe's number; recall?
and there's Don Bessent; he can really fire the ball.
as for Gil Hodges, in custody of first-
He'll do it by himself. Now a specialist versed
in an extension reach far into the box seats-
he lengthens up, he leans, and gloving the ball defeats
expectation by a whisker. The modest star,
irked by one misplay, is no hero by a hair;
in a strikeout slaughter when what could matter more,
he lines a homer to the signboard and has changed the score.
Then for his nineteenth season, a home run-
with four of six runs batted in-Carl Furillo's the big gun;
almost dehorned the foe-has fans dancing in delight.
Jake Pitler and his Playground "get a Night"-
Jake, that hearty man, made heartier by a harrier
who can bat as well as field-Don Demeter.
Shutting them out for nine innings-a hitter too-
Carl Erskine leaves Cimoli nothing to do.
Take off the goat-horns, Dodgers, that egret
which two very fine base-stealers can offset.
You've got plenty: Jackie Robinson
and Campy and big Newk, and Dodgerdom again
watching everything you do. You won last year.
Come on.





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