by James Finn Garner
The Northwest, known for its lumber,
Was at a loss to figure Phil Humber
Who deftly dialed the M’s number
In shadows, sun and penumber.
Could Starbucks have ended their slumber?
No matter, their bats were encumbered
In a masterpiece, shaded in umber,
The perfecto for new ace, Phil Humber
Published in Chicago White Sox, History, James Finn Garner, Players, Pure doggerel, Seattle Mariners | Link to this poem | 8 Comments