Published on Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Step up to the plate, speeden your gait,
St. Patrick’s Day is here, the end of your wait.
The City is your arena, home, home on the range,
I’m still in the running, part of the exchange.
The Schultz Family is the standard in this riddle game,
Success is in the genes, it is a burning flame.
Drive by the big game on your way to the prize,
wear your snoveralls, I have butterflies.
There’s the Irish and those that wish they were,
Eight ball in the side, I need a chauffeur.
Bird legs and fishing rods and uptown girls,
Back to work my hunting friends, I’ve even seen some squirrels.
Warm summer days and you’re the bladerunner,
Showtime at the Apollo, what could be funner.
Burn a hole in the yellow, my fine Irish Fellow,
Bring the right artillery, no time to be mellow.
Feeling kind of torpid, could use some serendipity,
Explore my latibule, I’m lost in committee.
Fill the land with wonder, my leprechaun friend,
Seussian is the mood, oh when will this end.
Published on Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Time to get going, pull up the plow,
Yowza, Yowza, come to my Pow Wow.
Hey all you brainiacs, it’s time to do some math,
Thirteen times thirteen, should send you down the right path.
It’s ok for me and Al to say hi to Ma and Pa,
Oh, I forgot Mo, he’s in the land of la la.
Batarangs, bat cuffs and even some bat gas,
Bat tracker and bat claws, I’m up on the grass.
Hail to our Country, the wockets red glare,
The key to this all is the right thoroughfare.
The tribe has spoken, you’re none the wiser,
The master’s eye is the best fertilizer.
I love the parade, I watch them go by,
Classic is the word, what do I imply.
But in your dreams, whatever they be,
Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.
You may meet your Waterloo, boy oh boy,
My makeup is that of shamrocks and alloy.
I’m part of your floordrobe, I’m out on the loose,
Be the fashionista before you vamoose.
