In Which I Try to Compensate for the Lack of Rhymes for “Conrad”

by Ember Nickel

Oh, what is to be done with Brooks
If you can’t blame umpiring crooks,
Nor looming Giants, hated mooks,
Nor your peers, inadvertent schmucks?
Pilfer question marks from scorebooks
Recording dodgy moves by rooks?
Pelt him with food from angry cooks?
Hope he retreats to distant nooks?
Or just give him frustrated looks
And celebrate Cox’ final hooks?

The peerless Ember Nickel blogs at Lipogram! Scorecard!


Published in Atlanta Braves, Management, Pure doggerel, San Francisco Giants | Link to this poem | 4 Comments

In Which I Try to Compensate for the Lack of Rhymes for “Conrad”: 4 Comments

  1. Todd Herges wrote,

    Poor, poor Brooks. Look up “snakebit” in the dictionary and you’ll find his picture.

    Your poem brought a (wry) smile.

  2. Stretch wrote,

    Perhaps he should go buy an arm pad,
    Then at least he could play his D not bad.
    If he keeps up this way –
    and keeps spoiling Bob’s day –
    He’ll need to search the want ads for a comrade.

  3. James Finn Garner wrote,

    See, Ember? You just weren’t trying hard enough.

  4. Ember Nickel wrote,

    Indeed. My apologies for laziness, and well done Stretch (particularly the last one!).

    Todd–I actually did look that up (on Wiktionary) because I’m not too familiar with that term (outside the literal context). Turns out it’s an anagram for “beatniks”. Glad you enjoyed.

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