Mets Fan
I’m a second-class citizen
trapped in a first-rate city
son of a Brooklyn-Dodging-Giant,
laid to rest in the back-alleys of Muttsville
I’m a Mets fan!
I’m the beat, the outsider;
Slumbering through broken dreams
like an abandoned umbrella, blowing
down Big Apple’s Broadway
of “meaningless September”
I’m a Mets fan!
I been yanked,
drag-bunted, tossed to the corner dive-bar
looking for solace in a static-ridden TV
sipping beer, waiting for glory
in the bottom of the ninth;
the miracle RBI that never comes,
but never goes away
always believing, always believing,
I’m a Mets fan!
I’ve been rejected
by the ‘Canyon of Heroes’ for way too long
been ejected from the Back Page for way too long
been wishing for a wild card for way too long
believing in Miracles for way too long
replaying the tapes of ‘86
replaying the tapes of ‘86
“and it gets through Buckner’s legs”
for way too long
I’m a Mets fan
I’m tired of chewing on my pen
calling F.A.N. through long hot summers
chatting with Steve Somers, schmoozing
and consoling,
“Hey, it’s alright to dream,” because
I’m a Mets fan
When my team loses
I get the deep, dark, bluesy, blues
when the Metropolitans
pull out a win by the skin of their cleats
You’ll see me dancing in the streets
Buying drinks for all around
yes, even for our friends from the other side of town
Yes, I’m a maniacal Metropolitan Mets fan
I’m a Let-Go-Mets-Go-Mets-Go-Fan
I’m an M-E-T-S New York Mets fan
I’m a Mets fan!


copyright 2006, Frank Messina

from Full Count: The Book of Mets Poetry

Next Poem

Main Poetry Index