This is where we slow down……….

Barry & Harold

my heart begins
to slow into a hypnotic rhythm
and all goes quiet
as if soft, protective foam
is minimizing vibrational damage
to my ear drums

tension, backs quickly
out of the room, like receding fog
on fast forward

we’re gonna start by catching two-handed, like we learned in Little League

my anxiety goes numb
fear disconnected by its own neuropathy

then we’re gonna switch to one-handed, Harold.
[just stopping it with the mitt and transferring to the throwing hand, the right in the case of Barry and Harold]

every fiber of my spinal cord
starts firing the same message
of a low hum, like an engine idling
and the physical world’s import fades
amidst the shining aura of movement and energy:

the ball had become the temporary center of the universe:

and now, Harold, we’re gonna take it off the short hop
[angles and vectors chasing a line drawn by a little white sphere and red threading. a string theory, of sorts, fusing two grown men together by the connection of their energy. their mutual love]


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