Dunn and Dunn-er

by James Finn Garner

Adam Dunn can’t hit his weight.
In the AL, the DH job
Don’t get done at .168.
A hit man working for the mob
Posting such an average
would end up in a trunk, well plugged.
By even elfin Lillibridge
Is this day-old pot roast outslugged.
With warmer weather, heaven willing,
The Sox’ll wield more potent lumber.
Adam, a tip from TV’s Tom Skilling:
In Chicago, it’s already summer.

Though Alex Rios is glad to see
A “slugger” choking worse than he.

Published in Chicago White Sox, Chicago White Sox, James Finn Garner, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | No Comments

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