by Sid Yiddish
In the city of cities
Of old New York,
Where Manhattan is an island
And Jews in Brooklyn don’t eat pork,
Where they search you on the subway at the drop of a hat and the kings of the sewers are giant super rats, they are shutting down Yankees & Shea Stadiums,
Just like that, without even asking if the fans truly care, and most likely they do, in a two-team baseball town.
Where the dust never shakes too hard upon Ground Zero, whose souls lie beneath, are now called heroes; where greed and lust encrust Wall Street and where a two-team baseball town swings to its own beat.
You’d think the club owners would leave well enough alone and just refurbish and not rebuild The House That Ruth Built from new bare bones, but sadly, Shea is closing too and where on earth will the feral cats that have lived within the bowels of that park for years, where will they run to after that last stadium light goes dark?
Nine lives don’t cut it even when a two-team baseball town probably will gut it, just like they did to CBGB, too.
Is it any wonder why I’m slowly losing interest in baseball?
For more on Sid Yiddish’s poetry, music and performances, check out his My Space page.
Posted 10/2/08