John Hamilton Mortimer, English
Jack Soon Discovered That the Problem With Playing Rock, Paper, Scissors Against Yourself Was You Wound Up With a Lot of Ties, 1767
Oil on canvas
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Perhaps more info about him can be found here, here, here, and here.
/// Big Jack Broughton, the boxer, insists
he will fight any man with bare fists.
But the rumor persists
that his love life consists
of bald bare-chested boys with limp wrists.
/// “That foul rumor’s a sick bald-faced lie,
which I hereby completely deny!”
So said Jack. Watch him flex
biceps, triceps and pecs,
as he tries to catch everyone’s eye.
/// Pinning half-naked men was his aim.
His opponents all felt just the same.
Scripted wrestling was lame,
but if someone he’d maim
at least Jackie would not get full blame.
/// Jack worked out in-between throwing punches.
Every morning he’d do sets of crunches,
then lift weights until noon.
He’d avoid the saloon
when he ate his lean protein-packed lunches.
/// His bare knuckles had raw swollen skin
where they’d smashed into some fighter’s chin.
But Jack wouldn’t have loved
it if boxers were gloved;
they’re too tempting to hide horseshoes in.
/// He’d perfected his jab and his hook.
All his moves were performed “by the book.”
Jack is heavily muscled.
Fast with footwork; he hustled.
Shaved his head for that “macho-man” look.
/// On his back, Jack considers the ring.
“It’s not round; why’s it called such a thing?
Also, I never saw
through my so-called “glass jaw.”
Such thoughts cease; stars whirl, birds start to sing.
/// Broughton claimed his opponent had dealt
Jack a blow which created a welt.
From behind he had whipped
Jack with leather he’d stripped
from his waist when he raised up his belt.
/// This sad story’s instructive, to show
us what every good boxer should know.
Those who wear their belts higher,
(well above their “spare tire”),
exempt too much from “hitting below.”
/// He’d used brains, guile and cunning to show
those alone would not vanquish his foe.
The difficult truth for
our villain, Lex Luthor:
To beat Superman, box toe-to-toe.
/// He had had to bulk up a lot first;
swilling steroids until he could burst.
In each fist, for the fight,
he clutched pure kryptonite.
(Lex is best when he’s doing his worst.)