Twas windy and the seagulls dove
And pooped on Gimbels by the lake.
Manyvoting were the daleycrats,
Sammy Sosa's hits outflang.

Bemoan the Jordanloss and shun
The Bulls that lose, the Bears that flop,
Bet naught the Cubs nor love the Sox,
All bottomdwellers, ne'er on top.

In from O'hare he took the Ike,
Longtime he sat and moved not.
So rested he in an old taxi
And he murgled in his thought.

But when within the Loop he stood,
The Winterhawk with breath of ice
Came frizzling down LaSalle and Lake
And froze him in a trice.

Folks two by two, plus me and you
Were frozen in the street
And left for dead til it was said
"Let's wait for August's heat."

Delay fools not the Winterhawk
He bloweth strong in August too,
No doldrums here, thus bodies sere
Have blown to San Berdoo.

Twas windy, and the seagulls dance,
The breeze has cleansed Chicago's Mile:
All poesy are the celebrants
As they mimic Carroll's style.