Drake joyfully sings
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game”
and drinks cup of blood.

His fang teeth exposed
as he smiles. Watching the Cubs
is his only joy.

The camera pans
the crowd. So many drunk fans
ripe for the picking.

He yearns to go to
Windy City Chicago
for a live night game.

After Googling
airfares from Romania,
eyes bulge in surprise.

First class is out of
his budget. Too snooty for
economy class.

He morphs into a
bat instead and flies there his
own damn hairy self.

It’s a long way and,
with no comfort of a plane,
he listens to tunes.

Drake pops in earbuds,
flying trace-like to beats of
Hotline Bling by Drake

Yes, Drake listens to
Drake. Upon arrival, he
hops on the Red Line.

He rides back and forth
through the subway portion through
the day. No sunlight.

He notices some
passengers suspicious of
his strange appearance.

Did he forget to
wipe the blood off his face. Is
it the paisley cape?

Maybe it’s not as
trendy as he thought. Plus, it’s
too hot for summer.

He takes cape off and
catches some zzz’s. Finally,
the sun is setting.

By this time, Drake is
so delusional from the
train stench, he errors.

He gets off at the
wrong stop- Grand and State instead
of Addison. Oops.
_____________________________________________________

Emma and Meg take
their Pizzaria Uno
warm breadsticks to go.

The garlic butter
runs down their chins as they chew.
Wait, who’s that hot guy?

They spy Drake. He is
kinda goth but who cares? They
approach. He’s intrigued.

Until he smells the
garlic. He skitters away.
Oh, the reverse psych.

The rejections makes
the girls want him even more.
They pursue harder.

Their aggressiveness
causes the breadsticks to fall
on ground…in a cross.

Drake gets the hell out
of there and skedaddles to
Wrigley Field. At last!

But he’s hungry. And
those mortal breadsticks looked so
yummy. He wants in.

He texts a Magi
who owes him a favor. But
Magi is Sox fan.

So he adds a fun
twist. Drake morphs into a Lake
Michigan seagull.

Who can only eat
food with his head upside down.
At first, Drake feels rage.

But one taste of that
garlic butter has him in
Heaven. No regrets.