Hot dogs <br />and <br />chips <br />followed <br />by <br />an <br />ice <br />cold <br />coke <br />coke <br />here <br />to <br />bring <br />the <br />crowd <br />a <br />smile <br />as <br />the <br />wind <br />of <br />summer <br />teases <br />in <br />late <br />april <br />and <br />the <br />only <br />game <br />in <br />town <br />worth <br />watching <br />is <br />baseball <br />baseball <br />at <br />Wrigley <br />where <br />the <br />cubs <br />have <br />a <br />chance <br />to <br />do <br />it <br />this <br />year <br />while <br />the <br />ivy <br />is <br />still <br />dormant<br /><br />Charles Lara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hot-dogs/
