G.McKenna Golf Haiku
Gigantic driver Fuels my testosterone dreams Three-hundred yard drive.
Gotta get a grip On this game that has gripped me Before it gives me the grippe.
My ball is engulfed By autumn’s crimson bounty Perils of fall golf.
Chipmunk takes cover Knows the stone wall may save him From my wicked slice.
Smashed it off the tee. But why did my second shot Only go ten yards?
Three-foot downhill putt Just keeps going and going. Now six feet back up.
Winter rules beckon Even in the August heat. Don’t heed that siren’s call.
Splashdown in the pond A chorus of croaks erupts Laughter of the frogs.
Snack bar girl so cute Even though I’m not hungry Gimme another hotdog.
Kerplunk. Rattle. Plop. Sweet euphony on the green. Sunk another putt.
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