I like baseball, I must.
It swats home
My trust.
With two outs,
The runners always go,
Or I’ll eat crow.
I like apple pie, I must.
It yummifies
My trust.
When the tines sink
Into the crust
Eat pie I must!
I like mom, I must.
She engendered
My trust.
And thanks to her
I’m here to say
These fine rhymes today.
I like Chevrolet, I must.
It shuttles home
My trust.
I rented an economy car,
But since they didn’t have any in that size,
I got an Impala, a luxury-class surprise.
I like America, I must.
It ryhmeifies
My trust.
Even at the cost
Of beauty. Concision.
Style and precision.
I love them. I must.
They all augment
My trust.
Even if the one we trusted
Goes and blows our global cred,
The crux of America is far from dead.
[11-21-05 Berkeley, CA]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem