by James Finn Garner

Brian McNamee slimed my name,
Slandered my game,
Handed me shame.

I never did the things he said.
He hurt my cred.
**sniff**
Wish I were dead.

Can’t sleep at night, I have bad dreams,
Hear crazy screams,
‘Bout clears and creams.

Next time the two of us cross paths,
I’ll rip him in half
And gnaw on his lats.

Whatever’s left, I’ll chop in bits
And mail t’ his kids,
Mis’rable shits.

I’m warning you, judge, don’t forget:
I was a meek pet
Ere he and I met.

Posted June 3, 2008 

Published in Pure doggerel, Scandals, Players, New York Yankees | Link to this poem |