Fore Poem by Steve Howard

When I must hand pick the driving range,
unprotected by a cage,
it seems that hitting range balls,
of a sudden is the rage.
The other day as I picked range balls,
I heard a duffer say,
"I hit the ball like Lee
Trevino,
but I need practice every day.
I'm gonna go and hit some range balls.
Hit em high, and hit em low.
Hook em, thin em, slice em,
I don't care which way they go.
I'll try not to hit that cart boy,
but if I do I just don't care.
Cause cart boys come a dime a dozen,
and have at least one eye to spare.".
Well, it's time to pick the range again,
and if that duffer comes today,
I'm gonna go and hit some range balls.
Only back the other way.