In The Third Row Of A Baseball Game. by J.J. Campbell

stunning beauty in the

third row of a baseball

game

she's probably fucking

one of the players

of course, that could just

be the cheap beer talking

then you happened to 

notice the rock on her

finger

well, she's doing more

than just fucking

and it's not like you

ever had a chance

you could lose weight,

change the last thirty

years of your life and

you still wouldn't have

a damn prayer

you take a quick nip

from the flask in your

coat and laugh

perhaps

but i would be one hell

of a dirty memory for 

her

that's definitely the

alcohol talking

J.J. Campbell (1976 - soon) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Fourth and Sycamore, Pyrokinection, Dodging the Rain, Midnight Lane Boutique and Rusty Truck. His most recent chapbook, the taste of blood on christmas morning, was recently published by Analog Submission Press. You can find him most days waxing poetic on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (http://evildelights.blogspot.com)