Snapdragons
are killer curveballs
a violent wrist twist to reap a white
terror, red stitching slicing sky,
bending air, bursting ash
a hissing arc seeking ready leather
but also a flower—puffed
pastel petals erupting
upward, a plant best
placed at property’s edge
both share the same season
blooming by spring and
wilted by winter, perfect when
partnered with sunshine
in baseball they’re best when
sown with restraint, for
excessive snapdragons will
impel elbow’s ulnar to
tear into two
producing a “pop!”
an internal turmoil
like a stem being
ripped from its roots
and the petrified pitcher
will visit a surgeon
and soon see a smiling
scar on their arm
though such forecasts are scarce
and must not prompt pitchers
to stop snapping
off their best breakers
since the sharpest snapdragons
are invasive to hitters,
bats planted on
shoulders means strikeouts
but a hanging snapdragon
blowing free in the breeze
is sure to be sent into
orbit.