Third strike and finally
The match lights, yielding a flame that
Curveballs around the tip.
"don't hold a lighted match
submarine-style" - mother said.
"you'll burn yourself for sure!"
I light the candle with the match held sideways;
Three seconds and my fingertips are singed.
mother is right again.
The candle illuminates my room...
Shadows flicker over my baseball figurines-
Four active players in total.
Angry at the burns on my hands,
I shake the match unlit and
Throw it away.
If it were a baseball i would have whipped a
Four-seam fastball straight into the barrel.
"always watch a match off" - mother said.
"it could still be lit."
Regardless, i throw it into the trashcan.
Soon the tissues-
Dirty with blotched lipstick-
Alight.
I sigh and move my hockey memorabilia away
From the miniature inferno.
I still haven't gotten
This listening thing right.
