by Hilary Barta

Across Waveland, they cry they won’t see
The game they now spy on for free
.      Greedy Rickett$ need bucks,
.      So buy tickets, you schmucks!
You can say it’s an an “eye-balling fee”.

by Edmund Conti

A tale of a batter renowned
His exploit will always be known.
While the pitcher  was taking the mound,
Our hero struck out on his own.

 By Stuart Shea

Shrouded in soft gauzy myth
Jackie Robinson
smiles, uncomplicated–
angry when necessary,
beatific when possible,
surrounded by angels and devils,
not people.

Making Jackie a figure,
instead of a person,
means we don’t have to deal with
what he dealt with.
We can celebrate his triumph,
which by our celebrating it becomes OUR triumph.

Oh, how good we are.

by Hilary Barta

On Waveland a pic-screen will top it
The neighbors are sick, but can’t stop it
.      For their sight-line of sport
.      They will fight them in court,
And pray that the Rickett$ will drop it.

Want more Hilary Barta? Who doesn’t? Check out the rest of his limerick output at LimerWrecks.

by Hart Seely

Jesus Christ: You like him? Honk!
Lindsay Lohan? Fall-down dronk,
Johnny Rotten: Eighties ponk,
Travis Hafner: Our man Pronk!

Kim Kardashian: Kanye’s bonk,
Paris Hilton: What a skonk!
Oscar winner: Hilary Swonk,
Travis Hafner, New York Yonk.