James Finn Garner – Page 114

A Poem for Lou Piniella

by James Finn Garner

Quite a fella,

That Lou Piniella.
He ain’t yella,
You can tella.

He joined the Cubs
To lead those scrubs
And prove past flubs
Were yesterday’s stubs.

A Herculean task?
Don’t even ask.
In last year’s grotesque,
They finished dead last.

But with Al Soriano
And Carlos Zambrano,
The team may be on to
A World Series, pronto.

And if the Cubs win
A World Series, then
The fans will have gin
Drenching their chins.

If not, then old Lou
Will have some ‘splainin’ to do,
Which he’ll probably do
With a meltdown or two.

by James Finn Garner

A colossal slugger named Barry
Had an outlook cheerful and merry,

Til you ask if his muscles
Come from workout room hustle,

Then he’ll threaten to rip your arms off and shove them up your ass because you’re always picking on him.

by James Finn Garner

Barry Bonds put himself to the test,
To beat Babe Ruth’s tally his quest.

To be home run king,
He would try anything.

So what if he grew some huge breasts?

Quite a fella,
That Lou Piniella.
He ain’t yella,
You can tella.

He joined the Cubs
To lead those scrubs
And prove past flubs
Were yesterday’s stubs.

A Herculean task?
Donâ€™t even ask.
In last year’s grotesque,
They finished dead last.

But with Al Soriano
And Carlos Zambrano,
The team may be on to
A World Series, pronto.

And if the Cubs win
A World Series, then
The fans will have gin
Drenching their chins.

If not, then old Lou
Will have some ‘splainin’ to do,
Which he’ll probably do
With a meltdown or two.