A Numbers Game
Rudy likes to tell of nine-one-one,
The time he didn’t poop his pants and run.
As people and paper fell from the sky,
He was New York City’s go-to guy.
But that was quite a while back,
And since then: no new attack.
Still, Rudy talks a lot of nine-one-one,
Every other word, in fact, a nine or one.
I wonder where he’d be if, on that day,
The Mets had beat the Cubs (or Tampa Bay),
And nothing tragic had undone
Us. Not much talk, for sure, of nine-one-one.
1 comment:
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