McCarren Park Mythology

I wanted to win but the competition
Had departed the pitch for bigger dippers
The snakes on their heads needed feeding
And the chalk lines had been sucked away
By my own massive heaving lungs

An unfinished footrace was not without
A lesson: eyelids are not the only things
That are painted, the streets in Brooklyn
Are asphalt without lanes but hieroglyphs
Mark dangers unfinished

Two softball teams cannot survive
In one place at one time, the walls
Of factories that are the sky when you lie
On your back were painted by
The numbers on their jers-eyes

The carpet grass in the wind, now
Is playing a dangerous jai-alai