The Lost Art Of Winning Poem by Jon Yttri

I sit at the desk
While they conduct the interview.
I tell of my experience
Some of it even true.
Food stains on my tie
I hope they don't detect.
I'd bet all my life's savings
I will get the reject.
I have lost the fine art of winning.
What's the use of continuing?
I aim the ball left English low
To get what I'm after.
It rolls across the table, in it will not go.
This is no cause for laughter.
I have lost my fine art of winning.
And my chance is greatly thinning.
On the mound, I uncoil the throw
Like a serpent come apart.
The batsman swings, before I know
Yonder ball does depart.
I've lost the fine art of winning
And there's only one more inning.
To make the art of winning show
You must know where to look
Perhaps Louvre, Prado
Or Art Institute
Of Chicago, County Cook.