Game 80
A game short of the midway mark,
the Sox return to Fenway Park
to meet the Marlins and embark
on a 3-game stand (What the fark?)
(Not a real word. No need to narc.)
Please hear me out. Now listen! Hark!
We need to find some kind of spark
to wrap up the half season’s arc.
(One that will last, not be a lark.)
We’ve been up and down, light and dark.
The difference day to day is stark.
We’ve been Superman. We’ve been Clark.
We’ve been the ant and the aardvark.
Tonight, let’s show a sense of snark.
Let’s not be fish. Let’s be the shark.
The human rhyming dictionary, LynnRice is his name
He's always on point, and never misses a game
He's got rhymes galime, he's got rhymes galilla
He's got more rhymes than Phyllis Diller
He's got rhymes in the castle and in the pagoda
You know he's got rhymes like Abe Vigoda
There's more to him than we'll ever know
and he's got mad hits like Sadaharu Oh
He's got more rhymin' action than my man John Woo
and he's got mad hits like he is Rod Carew
Lucky for us, his poems always pop
You know he can't, he won't, and he don't stop
Bustin' out rhymes every night about these jocks
He's got way more wins than the Boston Red Sox
Chronicling the games, cutitng through the noise
And he never has to rip off the Beastie Boys
Keeps the rhymes flowing, even if the Sox play stanky
He's never sucking it up like those motherfarkin' Yankees
Got the words to describe a Brayan Bello heater
He can even rhyme Masataka Yoshida
Whether the Sox look good or very beatable
He's got the poems to make these game threads readable
We gather here to read him like bees to the hive
It's the poetry master LynnRice 75