He was as clean as a peach
Teased about his unbroken nose
Young as he was he got in the ring
Loved to hear the crowd sing
Chant his name you know that thing
Gave him gas to go each round
Nose intact he could react
No choice now the bell didn't go
Each round kept him grounded
Concentration the only friend
Save his Z28 cooling on down
The girls loved its rumbling sound
74 a golden year of wheels
Big block engine sporty fast running high test gas
The Lands Down Club that was our rub
Its fowl air kept us keen like a well oiled machine
Oh did I forget to tell you
We were all locked in the set
The bag the ropes the bell
Hey you tell me your not ready yet
Sully kept us on the ground
Training was were we found
The real temple that was hog town
While Irv's Cuban freshened the air
Every time I smell it their
Comes that haunting memory
Of the bag the sweat the bell
Just can't erase it from memories well
Limits of endurance cannot be found
Until you go the last round
Nick Krakana Sr.
July 2nd 2020
Copyright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem