As the deaf-mute grocery clerk
puckers curious to a chorus “O”
to ask what kind of mushrooms
he should be ringing up, I think
of Ortiz and last night’s double
sailing like a lit-up vowel
toward the bleachers in center-left,
the outfielder unsure if it might
carry The Monster or carom off
when, in fact, it hits the warning
track, goes dead, toppling the fielder
painfully into the dirt, Ortiz
on second, me mouthing “oyster”
to the reaches of the Mystic Big Y.
Peter Filkins is a poet and translator who teaches at Bard College at Simon’s Rock. His books include After Homer and The View We’re Granted.
