the brainiacs
at the dictionary
would describe a eephus as
“an intentionally slow pitch thrown at a high arc”.
all the batters
who faced it
would call it
“a piece of shit, a real junk pitch”.
what they both misunderstand
is the real definition of an eephus
is this:
an eephus is a fat kid winning a 40 yard dash.
an eephus is a 1000 to 1 dog hitting, making you rich.
an eephus is your mother coming back to life,
and cooking you breakfast, and kissing you on the cheek.
an eephus is your dad finally saying he’s proud.
an eephus is your love calling you,
and saying she’s sorry, that she misses you,
and that she loves you so much,
oh baby if you would only take her back.
the eephus is the greatest underdog.
it’s every hope or dream or miracle
you’ve ever had or wanted,
put on a singular
40 mile an hour mission towards home plate,
making everyone in the stands believe
for just a second,
before it’s hit out of the park
by the cold hard bat
of reality.