by James Finn Garner

What became of your mojo,
Geovany Soto?
This season’s a no-go
With your average so low.

The last campaign–Bravo!–
The Cubs had a tyro.
Now you’re as cold
As an outhouse in Oslo.

It’s like waiting for Springsteen
and then watching Toto
Or dreaming of the majors
And just playing roto.

So listen up, Geo,
And don’t be a bozo.
The Cubs need a vaquero
Like old Marco Polo.

Stop being just so-so
Or you’ll get the heave-ho
Like a pitiful hobo
From a Cicero peepshow.

.

Posted 6/23/2009

Published in Chicago Cubs, Chicago Cubs, James Finn Garner, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | 1 Comment