CHEERS TO THE PATCH

His name is Branch comma Austin
He lives in Massachusetts comma Boston
He loves little kids, so he’s a teacher
His father loves church, he’s a preacher.

While Frankie B. works under the steeple
Otis Sands says he’s “One of those people.”
You know, the ones with the hole in their hair
And the shine upon his head, you know, the glare.

Loves going to concerts, even crowd surfs
Balls aren’t blue, definitely not Smurfs.
Not big on beer, drinks awful Jamaican rum
Doesn’t matter. It works for him, he’s gets some bum.

He loves to hit, gets all kinds of snatch
Dead squirrel on his chest, his friends call him Patch.
Papers folded perfectly, always with a plan
Not to mention, drives a sick minivan.

A sucker for the 80’s, loves The Knack
Sings into a vaccum, while his friends all yak.
Jessie’s Girl, Your Love, My Sharona
All his favorites, while slamming Corona.

Gets fired up, stares down upon us on the floor
We all go crazy. We want some more!
We want some Luda, some Fiddy, and some Busta,
Whether he did or not, still says, “Well I mustaaah!”

The kid can hit, sure knows how to muster
Drills the ladies, not even a fluster.
Hit it once, hit it twice,
All the meanwhile, Randy’s rollin’ the dice.

Loves the Schillings, the Pedroias, and the Bradys,
Even loves guys and well as the ladies.
He’s great with words, always plays wingman
Can even wing for himself, blasts in a Pringles can!

*Chief Staff Writer,
Otis Terry Sanderson