Jon Lester threw a no-hitter against my Royals last night.

I think it was the first no-hitter that I watched pretty much from the first pitch to the last, and I had weird feelings about it as it happened. I mean, the Royals were getting their ass handed to them, 7-0, but in the seventh and eighth I was cheering for them to break it up. In the ninth, though, I started to cheer for Lester, almost instinctively. And when it was over, I sobbed like a baby. And took a picture of myself.

What's the deal with the no-hitter? I thought that at some point the no-hitter took over the pitcher. Pitchers are, you know, supposed to give up hits.

AN APPROPRIATION POEM FOR ROBERT FITTERMAN

Do You Taste Breakfast?

Great, the robots think we taste like crispy breakfast treats.

There are days when I’ve overslept and have to skip breakfast

We happen to be out of all those things, so I’m snacking on

hummus. Mostly I have toast. Breakfast just isn’t my time of day.

Breakfast is the only time that me, the husband, and the spud

can all reliably eat together. This requires a tank of coffee.

I’m easily bored, so I rotate my breakfasts but on the weekends

anything goes. Goodness, I feel like such a breakfast slacker!

I’m not a morning person, at all. A scrambled egg is good, too,

add to the mix. However, when I was 20 lbs. heavier, it was a hot fudge

sundae and French fries—no joke. The easiest hot breakfast

ever is grape nuts. I figure you get 300 calories, if you eat

dessert for breakfast it saves you the calories later on, right?

We usually have leftovers for breakfast. I’m not typically hungry

for breakfast. yay! someone else who does cheddar cheese

with her oatmeal. Mmm mmm mm! I like breakfast!

I just want to say good luck to Kells. They're selecting a jury for his trial and, you know, as a citizen I find his crimes reprehensible, but as a fan I wish him the best.

Maybe it's being a poet that helps out. I mean, as soon as you get some training in the Great Modernists, you already have to start with the apologies. "I mean, sure he was a ravenous anti-Semite but..."

I say, if he's guilty, and that's IF, he should do time. But he should do time with an 8 track and a microphone.

Discuss.

All morning long two songs have been competing for being in my head more: Mariah Carey's Touch My Body and the fucking goddamn Eagles fucking goddamn Desperado.

I don't like the Carey song that much, although I like ANY song that has the lyric "I will hunt you down" on principle, a little bit. and I fucking HATE that fucking Eagles song, OH MY GOD. SMH.

So to distract myself, I'm summoning the spirit of White Male Poet to ask a properly WMP question: which is the greater piece of art, "Sunday Morning" by the Velvet Underground or "Sunday Morning" by Wallace Stevens? Discuss.