Stoney Moss

dabble and whatnot, mostly poetry

April 5

Green Jacket Blues

Augusta Club’s wearin’ an old green suit.
Augusta Club’s wearin’ an old green suit.
Won’t let the gals in, no matter their loot.

We’re private and sealed behind hard tight lips.
We’re private and sealed behind hard tight lips.
Decorum won’t let loose its tattered grips.

Fifty-seven years till a black man got in,
Fifty-seven years till a black man got in,
Fifty-seven years, late. And a hard win.

You can caddy the course and even play.
You can caddy the course and even play.
But the clubhouse is closed, it’s just our way.

What will it take to open a closed mind?
What will it take to open a closed mind?
Usual business? Green suit boys say, “Fine!”

Can Pres. Obama change the entry fee?
Can Pres. Obama change the entry fee?
Looks like the choir added Mr. Romney.

Maybe they’ll join this century, give a hoot.
Maybe they’ll join this century, give a hoot.
It’s time Augusta changed their worn out suit.

* * *

This time it’s the blues (from yesterday’s NaPoWriMo prompt) about today’s Opening Day (from today’s NaPoWriMo prompt). Only my poem is about The Masters, rather than baseball, and the flap over private membership and letting, or rather not letting, women in the club.

My dear husband and I are spatting over this one. Sure, I say, you can have your club, and make it private. But when it has certain traditions that don’t acknowledge today’s realities, then those old rules need to change. “Get over it men & boys. FORE!”

It’s odd that I have been writing to rhyme, because I don’t like writing to rhyme. But this was kind of fun, as was writing the sweetelle.

* * *

Some folks are participating in a Couplets blog tour, coordinated by Joanne Merriam of Upper Rubber Boot Books. Angie Werren will be sharing her micro-poetry space at feathers with other poets. Sherry Chandler is also participating. Do give a read.

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