lickety jackblog

As per request: A Special breakfast/baseball edition of Friday Morning Poetry!

Stack of Jacks, Hold the Slack

My waiter was a hulking
Figure, bigger than a barnyard ox,
His pants were hiked up over
Calves revealing vibrant scarlet socks.

He asked me what I wanted
"I will have the special, sir" I said.
"Ah yes!" he said, "Delicious!
Stack of jacks, beef hash and toasted bread!"

"May I suggest a cocktail
To accomp'ny your large stack of jacks?
It's made of whiskey, sausage
And it's called the Jim-Jack-Paddy-Whack!"

"Most excellent!" I chortled
And he grinned "Yes, I expected so.
And sir, should you need help just
Holler loud, the name is Wily Mo."

He lumbered to the counter
Called my order to the cook in Red.
"Excuse me" said the busboy
Wiped my table "Dunn's the name" he said.

Then Wily Mo returned and
Swore that my food would just be a jif.
"No better jacks are made than
By that cook," he smiled, "His name is Grif."

When I was finished eating
I was joined by the head manager.
He called himself "The Mayor"
And inquired how my Big Jacks were.

"Delectable, delicious!"
He grinned, sipped his virgin paddy-whack,
"Oh good, I'll tell the owner,
Mr. Larkin promises great jacks."

So I left satisfied and
Without anything to wish or want.
For who needs more than to sup
On big jacks at Redleg restaurant?


my word. Seth, i hope you like this one because i don't know if anyone else will.

Go Reds!

Labels: redlegs

posted by dan @ 10:17 AM