Meat Grinder

 

 

I have found

the perfect companion

to watch Mets games with:

 

-a meat grinder-

 

At the start of each game

I place the grinder next to my chair

crack a beer, recline and let the fun begin

 

First I place my fingers

into the chute and dangle them

over the spinning blades

 

With each passing inning

my fingers move deeper into the machine

until I feel the pressure of the blades

against my fingertips

 

At first, I ignore the pain

it’s just a few lacerations, that’s all

and besides, we’re leading

by a score of “three-zip” in the eighth

 

but, then a pitching change

and it’s Aaron Heilman

 

I start to get a sick feeling

 

My fingers become lodged

beyond return, then my forearm

 

I lean forward in the chair

shaking left to right

hoping to free myself from the

stainless steel beast now dangling

from the side of my body

 

Heilman walks

leadoff man in four pitches

and I start sinking

deeper into the machine

 

I push back from the chair

lifting right leg over head

then down against the meat grinder

trying to force loose

but

my foot slips into the chute

then calf, knee and thigh

 

With one leg left, I furiously

kick at the meat grinder

yet it too becomes lodged and devoured

 

Now, head and torso

sticking out of the chute;

the other half of me being

pressed out of the grinder plates

 

-I begin to panic-

 

Then it happens:

Heilman gives up another walk

a base hit, then a home run

 

-another blown game-

 

Down I go,

forced through the bowels

of a meat grinder,

pressed through chute and blades,

and onto the floor

in a glorious, warm and bleeding

pile of fan bits

 

 

copyright 2008 Frank Messina