Cleveland

Sad,
little, impotent Cleveland
I’m sick of you.
I’ve been in your rusty grip most of
 31 years,
poor man, in a poor city.
You don’t recognize or cherish
the things you have,
little impotent Cleveland.
I’ve had it
with your thankless attitude
and the way you drive
good men out of town.
And your good women?
They’re hardly worth looking at
once you’ve gotten your negative paws around them,
your rusty hands.
I don’t think you’ll be happy
until everybody in your borders
is a miserable failure like you,
little impotent Cleveland,
my biggest sports hero
is an ugly side - arm throwing duckling
named "Bernie" who almost got us all the way
to the Super bowl until the pretty boy with horse teeth got in his way.
Oh and Cleveland,
little impotent Cleveland,
Bernie finally got that ring.
Took a knee for Dallas,
after you let him go.
Said he wasn’t good enough no more,
diminishing skills, I believe.
Just like you discredit all good men.
You’ve got a great lake, Cleveland,
have you seen it lately?
I’ve been on Magnificent Miles,
and Inner Harbor’s,
and even the banks of the filthy beautiful Hudson.
But I can’t even get my feet wet at Whiskey Island anymore
and that, Cleveland, is a tragedy.
Tragic little bitch of a city,
you don’t even spin your wheels any more,
you’ve just given up
and hang your head
low low low.
I am sick of feeding you hot food
when you don’t know shit from foie gras.
Half of Boston’s buried under I - 90
and they still got it figured out
better than you.
You are an industrial smoke stack
spewing white poison steam
over the Broadway and Tremont neighborhoods.
You’re so full of yourself you don’t care
about your own neighbors.
Yeah, little impotent Cleveland,
                                              I’m sick of talking to you.