Oblivion

Yesterday at the Cubs game

a foul ball fell

right into this girl’s beer.

Everyone around her saw it coming.

Stop trying to write the story before it happens.

You can’t outsmart the path you’re on.

This is an experience to be experienced,

not figured out,

not planned,

not safe,

just surrendered to,

obliterated by.

The cup was resting on her knee, suddenly

baseball.

SPLOOSH!

How much of your day did you plan on?

Yesterday when I woke up

I still had a job. My whole week

had a schedule.

You can watch her face on the video

drunkenly realize what has happened

while everyone around her shouts

“Drink it!”

Today I have absolutely no plans.

She hoists up the cup

looks around

and chugs it down.

It’s the staring into the face of fear

that makes me love so fiercely.

Now there are all these men proposing to her,

and maybe that’s this sexist predatory thing—

a chick who likes beer and baseball,

sweet, I want her—

but I also fell in love watching that video.

To watch someone embrace the unexpected

so spontaneously, joyfully

is beautiful.

The crowded universe

will laugh in my face

and wrench away my fingers

one by one

from whatever I’m holding.

She’s got that roll with it drunk going on,

her body bobbing in the waves of

this moment, this

moment,  this moment.

I’ve come to know

I never dance so well

as when I’m shaking with fear.

She drinks her cup dry,

head tilted back

kissing a foul ball.