A poet? You know it.

Grand news now from the folks bringing you the 100th running of the Indianapolis 500 in May, or at least some of the folks binging you the 100th running:

You could be the Official Poet of the race!

Yes, that's right. The Arts, Culture & Youth Committee of the 100^th Running Host Committee is sponsoring a poetry contest to determine the race's Official Poet, a practice that began in the 1920s when the race program included a poem. Poets are encouraged to submit an original poem by March 21, with the winner receiving a cash prize of $1,000 and two tickets to the race, plus the opportunity to read his or her poem at the track during the month of May.

Now, the Blob is usually an Iambic Pentameter This Zone, but for something like this, it's willing to make an exception. Already snatches of something that will never be confused with Robert Frost are percolating in its trash heap of a brain:

Stuck in traffic on race-day morn,
Wishing I had never been born.
Here's a guy in the Coke lot, and I know what he's thinking:
"It's 7 a.m. Time to start drinking."

Or:

Oh, Ray Harroun, oh, Ray Harroun,
Your Marmon Wasp doth make us swoon.
Partly because
It rode history's great tide,
Partly because
Of the carbon monoxide.

Or:

I miss the turbine.
I miss the Novi.
The Blue Crown Special,
And A.J.'s Coyo-tie.
But if I had my favorites
Among cars that are fine,
It's the ones I'm in front of
In this long bleeping line.

And, finally ...

That damn Coogan went loopety-loo,
Took out ol' A.J.
And Mario, too.
But for all his misfortune,
He could say without bias,
He never did crash
Like Danny Ongais.