Ghost Runner

It’s an ecclesiastical mystery why God chose to deposit the longest stainless steel bar in the world in a place as remote as East Grand Forks, Minnesota. Scholastics have overworked their brains wrestling with the question. Hey, I want to shout, too much logic spoils the poem. I’m underfed and twitchy as a result and wear sunglasses indoors. There are things I dislike just on principle: “best of” lists, the ghost runner in baseball, roadside litter, any kind of flavored potato chip. Even strangers will tell me, Lighten up. A fast-buck culture like ours treasures imposters and thieves, remembered moments that never happened. I can’t tell what’s a real name, what’s an alias, but I don’t care that I can’t tell. The sky today is a bottomless blue, dotted with scattered white clouds that belong in a painting, and that’s enough.