Thursday, January 21, 2016

Chicken Big, 4

Frightening Doggerel

Stormy Weather: brontophobia

The Champ thought Billy’s stormy fears,
Consistent from his childhood years,

Would give him victory. And so
He named one fist for thunder, yo,

The other for a lightning bolt.
So, certain this would give a jolt

To his opponent, he stepped in
The ring. The fight would soon begin.

But Bill had done some therapy
And no more trembled fearfully

In thunderstorms. The final word?
A TKO—there in the third.

So thunder. Lightning. On the mat.
And that, poor fallen Champ, was that!

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