Swept off our feet

Could be verse: poetry ripped from the headlines
By JAMES PARKER  |  October 31, 2007

A sonnet for Pat D., the Phoenix cleaning guy, upon the winning of the 2007 World Series by his beloved Boston Red Sox

Pedroia’s full of piss and vinegar
And Lester on the mound became a man.
Release of tension in a burning car,
The thumping of the choppers close at hand . . .
Now on the hero’s brow alights a smile;
His frowning and his spitting are concluded.
Brave Varitek was weeping like a child.
And did we not weep too? We did. Or you did.
Triumphant in the secret heat of autumn
We count our courage equal to our luck.
Where might we be if Ellsbury hadn’t caught ’em?
Or if the bat of Kielty had not struck?
The deeds are done. The mind of Boston boggles
At life this instant seen through champagne goggles.

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