W.V., on special assignment for Bat-Girl.com, adores exquisite metrical movement and digs the long ball.

Jason Kubel, batting .320 with 7 RBIs in his last 6 games, inspires poetic verse with his alliterative and prosodic approach to outfielding. Basically, English romantic poetry has got nothing on Rubick's Kubel.

Poem by:

Samuel Taylor Coleridge W.V.

In Minneapolis did Kubel Khan
a stately pleasure-Metrodome decree,
where Mississippi, the sacred river, ran
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless Lake Minnetonka,
so twice five miles of downtown ground
with right field baggies and bleachers girdled round.
and there was astroturf bright with sinuous rills,
where blossom'd many a piranha-inspired play.
And here was teflon as ancient as the hills,
enfolding sunny spots of fake greenery.

But O! That deep turf chasm which slanted,
down the green hill athwart a fly ball over.
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
as e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
as if this Earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
a mighty galloping momently was forced,
amid whose swift half-intermitted burst,
The baseball flew dangerously to a corner,
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion,
through wood and dale the sacred outfielder ran.
Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man,
and sank in tumult to a blinding teflon bastion.
And 'mid this tumult Kubel heard from afar
ancestral voices prophesying Central Division war!

The poem is partially an expression of my teenage angst...but mostly, it's about a moo cow!