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Mason-Dixon Lines P O E T RY B Y DA R N E L L A R N O U LT "In part mistaken, I think I am listening and watching to learn the game of baseball. If not for a boyfriend . . ." C. P.'s Outlaws versus the Martinsville Oilers. Hotdogs and popcorn fill Friday night air along with moths that flutter and flirt with danger in the field lights. Mothers put their two cents in. Ask occasional questions of the men who talk to each other, their deep gravelly voices facing the playing field. Fathers judge ball speed, weigh batting stance, third baseman's charge, pitcher's windup, the balk, short's scoop and fire to first. They call for double plays, measure the power of the catcher's legs, how fast his mask comes off. Weaver, policeman, sander, insurance man, painter, doctor, lawyer, teacher, foreman, yardman, mailman, preacher. Their sons are scattered across the diamond 79 cupped in advertisements for WMVA, Blacky's Texaco, Red Man Chew, First Baptist Church, Dixie Pig Pit Cooked Bar-B-Q, and STP. A fast ball smacks the glove on third then rockets to first--policeman to preacher. A mother jumps on the concrete bleacher. Claps
Southern Cultures – University of North Carolina Press
Published: Nov 27, 2002
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