Breakfast at Tiffany’s? And I said…

breakfast-at-tiffanys

Last night I was out amongst the cracked tombstones
visiting the Wrights and letting my big dog
eat. Driving. One wood. How many range balls have
you snagged to shag in your spare time? One dozen?

Two stanzas. Double-four line. Time? Dire Straits.
The Sultan of what? Babe Ruth? Lou Gehrig? Nope.
Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio. A Yankee and
Marilyn Monroe. “And I said, what about…”

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