Sexual Fantasy about Being Repeatedly Hit in the Head by Fastballs Until I Concuss and Die
Brian Alan Ellis
Baseball pretty much sucks, and like the only chill thing about it is when it’s used as a plot device in movies (A League of Their Own) or on television (Eastbound and Down), or in the instance of needing to unreasonably destroy random objects using a wooden, easy-to-grip club with the name “Jose Canseco” inscribed on the side of it, and I know that late WWF Superstar Mr. Perfect once saved Boston Red Sox third basemen Wade Boggs’s life during an ill-fated hunting trip by unwrapping his legs from a barbed wire fence and then carrying him to safety like a wounded baby deer, and I know that Mountain Goats song about the Chicago Cubs makes me want to randomly sip Heineken at a loft party, and I know that “Centerfield” song always reminds me of sitting in the back of my uncle’s cluttered work van as a child while we drove around delivering upholstery from Long Island to Jersey on sticky-hot summer days, and I know that “If you build it, they will come” philosophy is horseshit because the people I Facebook-invite to all my events who say they’ll attend never bother to show, and I know that Stephen King once wrote some book about baseball that I’ll definitely never read because fuck Stephen King, and I know that baseball terminology is often used as sexual innuendo, which is weird because baseball is probably the least sexy sport of all time, though I have bitterly worked concessions at a Florida Marlins game while fantasizing about being repeatedly hit in the head by fastballs until I concuss and die, and there’s nothing sexier than that I don’t think, besides maybe being crushed by a massive baseball that a giant fucking infant has released from its giant pudgy grip and then seeing Mr. Perfect’s curly blond hair bouncing all around as he slides in for the save, but check back.
BRIAN ALAN ELLIS runs/neglects the literary journal Tables Without Chairs, and is the author of three novellas, two short-story collections, a forthcoming novel, and a book of humorous non-fiction. His writing has appeared at Juked, Hobart, Monkeybicycle, DOGZPLOT, Heavy Feather Review, Connotation Press, Electric Literature, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, Lost in Thought, Diverse Voices Quarterly, The Collapsar, Talking Book, People Holding, The Next Best Book Blog, Third Point Press, Reality Beach, Literary Orphans, Queen Mob’s Tea House, jmww, Hypertext, and Atticus Review, among other places. He lives in Florida.
JON-MICHAEL FRANK is the author of the chapbook Nostalgia Flower (Sad Spell Press) and a book of poetic comics How’s Everything Going? Not Good (Ohio Edit / Cuneiform Press). He is an assistant editor for the small press Birds, LLC, and lives between Austin, TX and the Puget Sound.