by Paul Kocak
Who did they think they were
Traipsing through here
Laying waste
Smashing baseballs
Shutting us out
And sending us home
Home to wallow
Home to pine
Lick our wounds
Bow out heads
But before we left
They handed us brooms
Detritus and debris
To sweep and to clear
Memory to erase
Shame to shun
They mighty be Giants
We defeated be Dodgers