March is the month where on TV
Are a bunch of teenage guys
Who compete to hold onto their balls
With other men of unusual size.
The best at making balls go swish
Will win. Others suffer sadness,
And that is why they call this event
By the appropriate name, March Madness.
Filed under Poems
There once was a guy named Satpal
From Mumbai who was seven feet tall.
He graduated today
With his Harvard MBA
But his dream was to play basketball.
Filed under Poems
I think that women’s basketball
And the WNBA
Deserve credit for helping
So many girls admit they’re gay.
But when they start demanding
More fair and equal pays
It behooves them to remember
That you can’t have both these days.
See, the typical NBA guy
Eats 2,000 pounds per day
Is 12 feet tall and has a trunk
And their skin is tough and gray.
The typical WNBA-er
Is about the same, you see
Except no one will pay to see her
‘Cause she’s only five-foot-three.
At one game we ask “do you think
“Shaquille can dunk on Mike?”
At the other game we wonder
“You think that one’s not a dyke?”
But if you score a hundred points
In every single game
And hire a player anyone
Would recognize by name
And sell out any contest
Then we’ll pay you like Jeff Teague.
Until you do, just be content
That you still have a league.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 