Brock the Rock, poetically takes on the Sooners taking on the Tide
Namaste, mere dost! This is your beloved Fashionista coming to you with the sniffles. Yes, your style guru has acquired a virus of some sort and needs to take some time to herself to recover. How dare such a common thing as the cold virus find its way into my patrician orifices to make me ill?!
Ah, well. In my absence, I’ve asked Brock, who is majoring in Liberal Arts and French Poetry to compose one of his poems in my place this week. I’ve told him to keep it classy, so let’s pray that he does. ‘Til next week, my loves! Ciao!
A Time to Fly
By: Brock (the Rock) Brocklestein
By and by, we all must fly,
To make our presence known.
If we lay aside, our time we bide,
Our chances we have blown.
Like birds among the clouds above,
Into the heavens show,
Will climb so high, up in the sky,
And poop on things below.
Just like myself on leg day,
I cannot neglect my abs,
I’ll find that my legs are fragile as eggs,
But my glutes are marble slabs.
And as the Tide will try to hide,
And encase inside their haven,
They might boast that they’re the most,
But they mourn the loss of Saban.
Hence when the Sooners come to town
Crimson and Cream flying true.
The tide will hide deep inside,
And the elephant shall weep anew.
Melissa, a/k/a “Sooner Fashionista” keeps our couture in check for those fall escapades at Gaylord Family Memorial Stadium.
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