The driver's goofy smile tells
he does not remember
he spent
last Christmas eve in jail
for another DUI
so I pull away without a word—
run from thoughts that
chase me on the freeway
and all the rest of my life--
thoughts
of what I might have said
to change his mind,
to adjust his life--
to change this goddamned
ball game.
Let him hit bottom, people say.
Let this abandoned building buckle,
let all the junk catch fire
and when the smoke clears,
watch him rebuild
from ground up;
watch him rise from ash like
a brand new stadium,
watch him make those MVP
home runs again.
