Alan Pizzarelli was born January 12, 1950, of an Italian-American family in Newark, New Jersey. Raised in the first ward’s Little Italy, he showed an early interest in music. By age fourteen he had his own band and performed as lead singer, bass guitarist, and song writer. In the late ’60s while working at the Newark Star Ledger, he became friends with the poet Louis Ginsberg (Allen Ginsberg’s father). Amused by the punning verse Louis wrote for the paper, Alan began writing one-line humorous observations on the human condition he later learned were senryu. He was also writing short poems that a friend told him were haiku. In 1970 his haiku and senryu were accepted by Haiku magazine. He then started attending meetings of The Haiku Society of America in New York City and met Harold G. Henderson, who taught him the finer distinguishing characteristics of haiku and senryu. Pizzarelli’s own senryu and critical writings have helped to define the genre in English. His first book of haiku and senryu was Karma Pomes (1974). Other important books are: The Flea Circus (1989), City Beat (1991), and Senryu Magazine (2001). Baseball Poems, a sequence of nine baseball haiku and senryu, came out as a folded broadside in 1988.
In 1964, Alan helped restart the St. Lucy C.Y.O. baseball team in Newark, for which his Uncle Rocco Pizzarelli had played first base in 1948. Alan’s team won its league championship and he received the Sportsmanship Award. He played centerfield, his favorite position, but also pitched and played first. Alan throws lefty and is a switch-hitter.
at the produce stand
a kid with a baseball
plays catch with the awning
leaning for the sign
the pitcher rotates the ball
behind his back
struck out—
back in the dugout
he kicks the water cooler
at shortstop
between innings
sparrows dust-bathing
game over
all the empty seats
turn blue
the score keeper
peeks out of the scoreboard
spring rain
leaving the game
the click of his cleats
fade into the clubhouse
bases loaded—
at the crack of the bat
the crowd pops up
7th inning stretch
the facade’s shadow reaches
the pitcher’s mound
saturday afternoon
as the ballgame ends
geese return to the outfield
october rain
the tarpaulin ripples
across the infield