Poetry CreatOR II

Created by Jeff Lewis & Erik Sincoff

with help from Darin & Thad Nicholson

Yogi Berra
Anonymous
Slowly Yogi Berra emerges upon the feathery sea.
Last for the massacring first for the slicing--Now we visualize!
Wandering its way along, like a crab in the grass.
Stars filled his mind--it was if spiders were stabbing his head.
Instantaneously, Yogi Berra clawed at the door--he knew his love awaited behind
Sadness washed over he like a pointed morning glory,
Billowing, deceiving, the catcher felt like a serving wench.
Cast me down from heaven for thinking of asps.
Yogi Berra gave his all, but lost bitter sweet to time.


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esincoff _AT_ cs.stanford.edu