Who was that raging, bobbing, weaving,
rolling Black Marciano with arms like
short pistons pumping mechanical precision
punches at 60 or so per round before that
battering left hook from out of the blue took
Ali down in the 15th of their first go around
breaking a jaw that was far from glass even if
Smokin Joe had far more class and no he was
no Uncle Tom having fled from the Jim Crow
south to the Streets of Philadelphia long before
Stallone stole a page of Wepner and Hollywood
made Tyson chumps out of champions and punks
and rappers only flap their mouths long before rap
became a game back in the day of my immaculate
youth when Cosell proclaimed “down goes Frazier,
down goes Frazier, down goes Frazier,” when George
Foreman took the Crown long before he started
pimpin dem crappy grill cookers and Ali labeled Joe
a gorilla looker when men were still men in the days
of yore The Thrilla in Manila and Frazier’s eyes were
swollen shut and Ali, Ali, Ali said he felt like he was
gonna die and now Smokin Joe has and Ali don’t got
much to say and he can hardly utter a sound even
though he may be “The Greatest” Joe Frazier was a true
champion and I remember March 9, 1971 like it was
yesterday when Joey B. came into our third grade class
happier than could be cuz Smokin Joe had beaten the
hell out of Ali the night before verily verily they don’t
make men of steel like that no more which may explain
why our lonely nation has lost its way godspeed Smokin
Joe Frazier and me thinks Ali be cryin your blues today
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