I met a traveler from a twinkie land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in U.S. Cellular Field. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Kenny Williams, GM of GMs:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
This was originally published on the SBNation blog, South Side Sox.
Published in Chicago White Sox, Chicago White Sox, Management, Songs and Parodies | Link to this poem | 2 Comments