The Catcher.
Yes I’ve been hoping to catch you but not in the rye, anyway ol’ JD is a bum. If I could catch you I’d put you up on my shoulders and carry you to a lush spot of grass. Catching can be difficult sometimes, it depends on the throw, the distance, or how many things are coming at you. I would catch you, ask you how you are, and release you to be on your way. I wouldn’t mind catching you eating a nub from a palm tree and maybe catch you being one of your many aliases, hopefully there’s a new one tomorrow. I don’t know if you’re sought to be caught a little or a lot but long shot or not I don’t mind having the couple thousand people reading this catch my drift and say, “awww what a sucker.” Now, I don’t want you to catch cold or a stray lamb, I do want you to act like a tomato and ketchup with me… I could strike you a match, build you a hut of thatch, brew you a new batch, or even possibly unlatch your tricky door. I doubt I wanna watch you sniffle or bicker, and either way that’s a long A and does not keep up with rhyme scheme. Can’t say if you still wear the shirt with the apri-caught print but last time I saw you in that I wanted to play the handslap game with you, too, but what, I wasn’t cool enough? I’ve caught some guff and I’ve caught a bad hand or two, but where the heck are you at, huh? Whatever you want to throw at me, be it haught or naught, I’m ready for it. Maybe you have a weak arm: I’ll stand closer and won’t make you feel like a goofball. I’d catch you if unbalanced yourself from a curb, I’d also like to recatch you sitting tired and bedraggled in the back of the store listening to a radio show. But most importantly, I’d like to catch you and me rolling around in some grass, see your shirt catch stray leaves, catch you reading some of my silly stories…
