Is it just me or does this picture make my ascot look askew? Asking for a friend. He wants to know where I got it. I told him I was climbing a fence, trying to sneak into Pimlico in Baltimore, for the Preakness Stakes and someone handed it to me.
So, he says, you were climbing the fence and you got your ascot?
An ascot is really nothing more than a loosely tied cravat. It was named for the Royal Ascot horse race, and since it is an outdoor event there is a slightly looser dress code. So, that is the reason for the ascot. The royals and people they invite to sit in the VIP section to watch the race are all dressed up, with a looser, less restrictive tie. Not the cravat, almost a garrote, but instead an ascot.
So, War of Will won the Preakness Stakes, but the race was marred because Bodexpress threw off his jockey. Bodexpress–jockeyless–went on to finish the race. Then he took a victory lap. I tried to find out what place Bodexpress finished but he was listed as 13th with an asterisk, because finishing without a jockey is an automatic disqualification. I see it more as tenaciousness. Persistence. Stubbornness bordering on foolhardiness. He didn’t finish dead last, but I guess I would have to watch the race and count the horses to see his actual finishing position, and counting horses is too much like counting sheep. It puts me to sleep.
But it did say that Laughing Fox came in fifth, and by another strange coincidence, I had just encountered a woman who called herself Laughing Fox. I remembered her, because she gave a talk on the health benefits of crystals, and also delved into the topic of spirit guides. In the Native American Shamanic tradition there are animal spirits that offer help and advice to those that know how to call on them for help. Her website was called LaughingFoxesBliss. Not going to digress here, but if you’re interested in digressions, follow the link above to Contessa Miller’s website.
Speaking of digressions, the grammar bugs me, because she wrote it as plural when she really meant it to be the possessive form. Ack! Anyway, I was talking about a horse race here, and how it inspired me to write a poem based on a song in Portugeuse–a language that I don’t speak. I mention my non fluency in Portugeuse because it pertains to the songwriting credits that might be due to some Brazilian dude who had nothing to do with the words I wrote, and so he gets nothing. Nada!
Bodexpress was sired by Bodemeister. The Will o’ the Wisp whispered to me that this would happen. Yes, in the War of Wills, time will tell. But will Tim tell Will? & am I mentioned in your will? Furthermore, I wrote some lyrics for “O, Grande Amor,” which has lyrics but only in Portuguese. I don’t speak Portugeuse so they are original, written by ME! ME! ME!
O, Grande Amor
O, Grande Amor has won.
The race is run.
Fate decreed the steadfast steed
Will do the deed
Even though the jockey was thrown.
The throne awaits her stately grace
A grateful nation’s adulation
anticipates her coronation
The stalwart stallion
The old pavillion.
Throughout the land
This War of Wills will rage.
The poets sharpen quills
And wonder what to make
Of Shakespeare versus Blake
Bootless cries compete with alibis
And boatless pirates
Can only wave at the waves.
The crocodiles that fill the moat
Have not been fed in quite a while.
The minotaur bites his knuckles
As he quells the urge to chuckle
Knitting Ariadne’s yarn into Theseus’s shroud.
Though ravens rave,
The giraffe has spotted
Leopards on the path.
The tigers gripe that
The zebra’s changed his stripes
The viper pipes upon the flute
The sly raccoon prefers the lute
Although a brute
Prefers to play the harpsichord
The queen is crowned
The crowd looks on in praise.
Long may she reign.
Christopher Robert Craddock © 2019