A Sonnet for Super Bowl LII

February 4, 2018

In Boston, nigh, the streets are filled with boasters
Made fatuous by years of winning Pats.
Beer swilling maw or hipster Facebook poster,
They spew legume-wrought gasses as they blast.

Three hundred miles south, another town
Whose citizens can speak the letter “r”
No dynasty nor national championship crown
Just Philly blood and cheesesteaks – well, so far.

But soon – tonight- this valiant gang, so driven,
Shall take the field and show THEM how it’s done.
When no one takes the victory as a given,
When only Eagles pride and heart doth make them run.

The call us underdogs, and we know why.
But sit back, now, and watch our Eagles fly.

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