Seventh Inning Stretch

		
The fan-cam gloms
	on a kid in the stands 

nonchalantly twerking 
	to the Dropkick Murphys'

punk rock Tessie.
	Boston we love you madly

He stops.  He groks,
	agape at his agape

Jumbotron enormity,
	Tessie, you’re the only only only

and goes ballistic,
	twerking his ass off

to adoring thousands
	of whooping and hollering,

Fenway fanatics
	 their idol, their only,
	
till the fan-cam cuts
	We're not messing around

to a grinning grandma
	a kissing couple

a bleacher's windmill
	of waving wannabees,

Tessie is the the maiden 
	with the sparkling eyes

lingering a long moment
	on a vast oblivious beauty

and calls it a day.
	Abruptly no Tessie.
	
The umpire dusts home,
	we settle down to size

and the teams jog out.
Bottom of the seventh, batter up.