if you throw a baseball up high enough to where you lose it in the sun, you can pretend that gravity is your daddy instead of the deadbeat who abandoned you and your mother four years ago.
you can pretend that gravity is the type of daddy who doesn’t call you a worthless little pussy when you duck and cover up with your glove as the baseball eventually comes back to earth fifteen feet away from where you cower on your knees.
just like your father, your mom used to always say when she’d pitch the ball underhanded and you’d duck instead of swinging for the fences like the man she told you she needed you to be.
that’s what i need, she’d say.
another man-baby in this family with no balls.

drevlow is EIC of BULL & poet laureate of your local Applebee’s dumpster. You can check out more of his shitty trash at thedrevlow-olsonshow.com or on twitter, insta, face, bsky, & threads @thedrevlow.