The Walrus and His Brother
The Walrus and his Brother
Were talking, cell phones in hand
When the Walrus said
Much to his dread,
What exactly happened?
My brother and my friend?
To wit, his Brother did respond?
What exactly do you mean?
I see no problem really,
At least not one that vexes me.
The Walrus thought
And tried to put his thoughts
Equally into his hand
Then he said,
More to his own dread
What had gone on?
“Brother, stop and think
Our teams, rather equally they did stink
Yet when the season is done…
Why is it that you should still
Have your job and I now have none?
Does it have something to do
With your tattoo
Or is it straight up blackmail?
It is truly hard to cogit
And defies nearly all logic
That I should be jobless
And yet, you are still prosperous?”
“Ahh… The time has come”
The Walrus’ Brother said
“To Talk of many thing…
Of Bright Lights and Back Pages..
And Cowboys who think they are Kings”
“And why vacations to the Bahamas
Are Boiling Hot…
And whether pigs can now sprout wings
And Tebowing and a former Trojan’s crotch
Which is where only anything useful springs..”
“I have a job
You sad sad nob
Because I keep the papers in ink
On old Broadway, you need a story
Which you can play
Even if your team does stink.”
The Walrus did sink his head low
And continued on his way…
For New York sounded
Like a Wonderland as opposed
To the realities of his day…