by Stu Shea
Sgt. Vladimir is waiting on the bench
To use his bat to dig a six-inch trench
So he can swing at pitches
He otherwise can’t reach
Using bats, or brooms, or switches
Kicking up both dirt and beach.
Sgt. Vladimir is hacking at the ball
And driving that hard sinker to the wall.
He hit it off his shoe tops
And drove in a pair of runs.
He’s more focused than a Cyclops,
And he’s having much more fun.
Published in Los Angeles Angels, Players, Pure doggerel, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | No Comments