A "Real" Boomerang Poem
by Scott "Neck Catch" Felton
Dedicated to the crowd in Fitchburg, Mass.



Dew on the grass, blue skies, birds in flight.
First toss with a boom I had finished last night.

It flew out and turned left and then hovered right in,
swooped low and then high and then caught me in the chin.

My next throw was perfect it was easy to see.
I was ready to catch when it cracked my left knee.

The third toss went left and a little bit right,
punched into my rib cage and continued its flight!

A crowd had now gathered of about twenty-three.
One suggested a doctor, one psychiatry!

I continued my throwing, the next one real low.
It swooped up and stalled and came down on my toe.

I threw yet again and it curved with a flair.
A beautiful arc that caught me "you know where."

And the onlookers were puzzled by my grin and my glee.
I felt compelled to tell them "there's no feeling, you see,
and no greater tribute to its accuracy,
than to be beat near to death by a boom made by me.

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Changes last made on: October 28, 2005