This is another poem about lying and cheating, so it's only fitting to post it on the Election Day before we play Auburn. Don't worry; I'm not going to venture into spidery territory or anything and am just noting the general shenanigans that often go on during the election process. If you haven't yet done so, please do your civic duty and go vote; this has been a Cherokee's Grip Public Service Announcement.

Some of you correctly guessed that today's Auburn Hate Week poem would be "The Tyger" as it is the companion piece to "The Lamb." Yesterday's poem was taken from the "Songs of Innocence," but today's poem is from the "Songs of Experience," the title of which fits Abuurn more appropriately than does yesterday's. With apologies to William Blake:

Tyger, Tyger, lying large,
dodging almost ev'ry charge.
What immoral hand or eye
could prove thy loathsome cheatery?

In what nondescript backpacks
put thee cash for quarterbacks?
What coarse hands dare seize these stacks
of illicit booster's rogue greenbacks?

And what trophy, & what dough
couldst twist thy moral fibers so?
And when thee teams began to beat,
what bold lies didst thou repeat?
Where's the hammer? Where's the pain?
Where's the NCAA's brain?
With that shameful, cheating grasp
dared thee crystal football clasp.

When the refs threw not their flags
and rended fairness into rags:
Didst thou smile thy work to see?
Didst thou who paid the Cam pay they?
Tyger, Tyger, lying large,
dodging almost ev'ry charge.
What immoral hand or eye
could prove thy loathsome cheatery?