Non-Erotic PoetryJoe Frazier in a Cowboy Hatwould knock you down with a right
like a pissed-off Zeus
struck you with a thunderbolt,
if you ever dared
to enter a ring where he stood opposite,
bouncing on his toes,
just waiting to smack your jaw
because it meant a Cadillac to his mom
even if she couldn’t drive.
Hell, even if Joe didn’t drive, he’d still hit you
because a guy fights his way to security.
Read Hobbes.
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