The Arab’s Revenge by Roger Tulk

Finalist in the poetry category, Mensa Canada 2016 Literary Contest

Breathes there the man with soul so dead

He never to himself hath said,

“I'll put fifty on number three,”

Who won last year in Calgary,

But hasn't won a damn thing since

Whose name when said would make you wince

Owned by a wealthy Arab prince

Who'd like to put him out to stud

Though realistically he should

Sell roasts and flank steak and horse mince

And pints of glue for little school men.

They're at the post, they're off and running

At the turn, number three is stunning

But one by one the others pass

And leave the Arab last, dead last.

Such man could keep his soul and purse

And prosper from money he disbursed;

His soul could yet have been kept warm

If he'd just read the racing form.