Browse all poems and songs in the 'James Finn Garner' Category


All-Star Clerihews, Part I

Tito Francona
Is a bona
Fide baseball Einstein.
We hope real soon he’ll be feeling fine.

Alex Wood
Pitches so good
He can play in-
Stead of the injured Clayton.

Jonathan Schoop
Is no dope–
For Miami, bought sunscreen
And some Word Search magazines.

Miguel Sano
Bit into a poblano
And let out a roar
Due to a cold sore.

 



It’s Still Early … in the Century

by James Finn Garner

The Cubs were the favorite this year
But their flubs have the faithful in tears
Whether it’s hitting or fielding
Or oppo hits yielding,
The W’s scant waving ‘round here.

 



Reasons to Snub the White House, Part 36

by James Finn Garner

“I’d rather go look at dinosaurs,”
Said Carl Edwards, Jr., today,
“The kind with frightening jaws
And claws to capture their prey.

“Who lusted for brainless rampage
And death and destruction to spread.
Unlike the cruel monsters of our age,
The ones in the museum are dead.”

 



You Don’t Know Jackson

by James Finn Garner

Edwin Jackson
Might have some action
Left in his fastball, batters fear,

‘Cuz Baltimore signed him
His “best” years behind him
His 12th team in 14 years.

Buck, it’s a mirage–
He can’t hit a garage,
Throws as straight as a cluster of starlings.

Looks like Duquette’s
Willing to forget
His results with the Cubs and the Marlins.

And the Tigers.
And the Padres.
And the Braves.
And the White Sox.
And the Dodgers.
And probably the Pilots.

 



Don’t Need the O-K

By James Finn Garner

Francisco, the K-Rod of lore,
Can’t get batters out like before.
Bought by Detroit for a bag of rocks,
He now harangues reporters to squawk
No coach ever asked about his demotion.
Where did he ever get the mad notion
That, at his current level of play,
Ausmus and Dubee needed his okay?

Whether by smoke signal, carrier pigeon or love letter,
There’s only one message for you, pal: Pitch better.

 

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