The phanatic

The phanatic

By Tim Livingston

I want to make a garden of my heart
A mossybacked creature
 
It’s been that way before
Every time he hits a home run
the auteur, the tyrant           I have two of me at least
and we’re reminded of the time
he hit a home run
 
The sweaty throbbing
ball of light in the bleachers
of becoming        screaming
hoarsely                     reminding us
to feed it
 
One the seed two the shade
three the root four the rain
 
I want to make a garden of my heart
It never tells me what to be            but it’s alive! At best
I don’t watch it grow but I feel it
I think
 
It grows like a body
truthfully
 
When it echoes
when it’s empty        when it’s getting faint
it’s getting faint again
 
what else can we do?
 
One the seed two the shade
three the root four the rain
 
I want to make a garden of my heart
I can’t be so flexible that a tumble feels like flying
that to drown feels elegant, all alone
 
alone as a sunset
 
but I can consider dancing
dancing
dancing on dugouts
 
What a glory then
            a lifelong project
 
it’s made of me!
For the people!
For the people!
 
One the seed two the shade
three the root four the rain

This poem was nominated for Best of the Net.

Tim Livingston (they/them) is a proud Pennsylvanian, living in Philadelphia with their cat, Mamma Mia! They like long walks around citizens bank park before first pitch, and during the game can often be found keeping score somewhere between sections 206 and 211. Once, between games of a double-header, they ate a slice of pizza at xfinity live! and watched some people ride the mechanical bull. It was nice enough, but they wouldn’t make a habit of going back.

Jason David Córdova lives in Puerto Rico as an illustrator and painter. Some of his art can be seen on Instagram at @jasoni72. You can visit his shop on Red Bubble.

The Twin Bill is a nonprofit organization with 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status. You can support The Twin Bill by donating here.