Lesson

I learned to throw the curveball

from my father.

Not the slow, sweet looping pitch

schoolboys throw for fun,

but the vicious, spinning vortex

whipped in with bad intent

towards the batter’s head;

a pitch that makes them sweat

as they stand in the box, alone,

back foot planted in pride,

front foot dancing and unsure.

From my father I learned to throw

the curveball past people playing

games.