He swings
and he swings
and he swings
chubby legs propelling a small body
into the sky
his face illuminated
rosy cheeks and tangled gold hair
and bare feet
with tiny toes
parading through the grasses.
He swings
and he swings
and he swings
and it's over
he steps away from the plate
flings the bat to the ground
a spray of profanities
erupt
clouding him with more than disappointment
or melancholy
more like hate.
He swings
and he swings
and he swings
a stray punch finds the wall
which doesn't bruise so easily
and he stalks from that room
that smells of her powders
that is decorated with erotic pictures cut from magazine covers
that is cold
that is cold
and he swings
and he swings
and he swings.
Explained here