Browse all poems and songs in the 'Stu Shea' Category


For Jose Fernandez

By Stuart Shea

Shooting stars are meant to fall
Whether in view or hidden,
It’s always such a shock to us
When, seemingly unbidden,
One does,
Just because.

 



The Mets Have a New Outfielder

by Stuart Shea

Brandon Nimmo
Sure ain’t no dimmo.
Don’t come from Pismo and
Don’t use no gizmo.
When viewed thru a prismo,
He just wants what’s hismo.
And if he hits like a wizmo,
The Mets will not quiz mo’.

 



Oh, You’ve Got Yourself a No-Trade Clause! (By Dr. T.S. Geisel)

By Stu Shea

You may think you’ve traded me,
For some prospect at Pulaski,
But call my agent–he knows laws.
I have myself a no-trade clause!

I will not go to this new town,
I will not go by air or ground!
You should have asked before you dealt,
Before you tried to swap my pelt,
If I would play for Greeber City,
Feembertown,
Or Veedenvelt.

 



The Boy

By Stuart Shea

The boy
Held a passel of baseball cards
Dating from before his birth
(His time on earth
Not even a thought)
With joy

 



Fair Ball Lined into His Nuts

by Stuart Shea

The bigger they are, the more they hurt…
So Juan Uribe got a just dessert
With a liner in the groin.
And that’s not a roll of coins,
And he’s NOT happy to see you.

 

From GQ: Juan Uribe Has a Very Good Excuse for Not Wearing a Cup

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