*

David Tisel grew up as an American expatriate in the Netherlands and Germany before moving to the U.S. at age 15. His poems often evoke a sense of place and in-between-ness, or nostalgia for the present moment. David is currently a graduate student in urban planning at MIT, and he lives in a cooperative house in Davis Square.

Little League in Viñales, Cuba

David Tisel

follow the right foul line out ten thousand

feet farther than a million dollar run

to that cliff face that’s jut stark and grey

like an old tile roof with trees for moss.

these teams share gloves and we choke back

love for a game meaning nothing and

everything between innings watching fielders toss

baseballs like ripe avocados against the clouds.

swinging for those mountain fences must mean taking

wing like the turkey vultures perched on a thermal

up to the bluffs—and that’s how the afternoon floats

and drifts with pitcher set and batter up at the top

of the fifth.

— David Tisel