Happy Friday everyone 
With everything that’s been going on over at Stamford I thought of sharing a few words about a project I have been experimenting with - online wrestling poetry. Yes. Poetry about professional wrestling. I started this project earlier this year around the time Vince McMahon and (Then: Austin) Theory met on-screen for the first time. The horrible Cleopatra egg crap for those who remember the year by storylines like me 
In light of recent events and the meteoric rise of AEW, some of the poems I wrote gain meaning and irony… I would appreciate it very much if you check out some of my poems below and at Masoud Cohen - poet at allpoetry. I would love to hear from you!
Thanks and Shabbat Shalom,
Asher Grinner
The Wars
The wars did not start on a Monday
Or end on a Wednesday
The battles have been raging long before
News of the war started to appear
The fighting stopped to allow the losers time to
lick their wounds and reassemble, while the winners
marched all over the perimeter.
They had to think fast.
All sides signed an agreement.
Then, they worked in the dark for years
waiting endlessly for the right moment to
strike.
And now, it’s Friday.
Mr. McMahon’s Karma #2
The messenger of doom
The poet of motion who sacrificed
Body and soul to
Become the prophet who spat in your face
You even used that in your soap opera
Showing the world how much you value
Honor and tradition
Then now and forever
Feeding your junkies
We will always tune in again
Or at least before Mania
No matter how bad it actually is
No matter what we came to know
I guess you really were
Our very own Walt Disney
In more ways than one
But now there is a new invasion
A true New World order
The pillars of a new pantheon
The Horsemen of a new Apocalypse
Envisioned by a golden boy
Like You once were
And just like You’ve destroyed
He has rebuilt
The territories mentality
The forbidden door
The blessing of the barefoot chiefs
Stolen and corrupted
Misrepresented and forsaken
For red carpets and dreams of global power
Now the Gods of Wrestling
Have chosen Him
To steal your Cleopatra’s egg
Your Crown Jewel has been taken
While you bury and erase
Taking food off tables
It was just what’s best for business
You even used that in Your soap opera
Playing caesar with Henchmen and lackeys
YOU were the real Phenom
You have taught the world so much
But even as your empire crumbles
You still see us as dust
Mindless sheep who’ll swallow everything
The same **** with a different name
Over and over and over again
The Undertaker’s Gone but everyone still gets buried
And the dark side now surrounds your Ring
It’s time to put down the pencil
Because TK is not Austin Theory
He is Austin 3:16 or
Mad Max in the Thunderdome
And we are already witnessing
A slobberknocker
Just like John Favreau
He took over the canon
And the new Avengers are
Already assembled
As JR and Schiavone do commentary
With Tazz and Gorilla
Excalibur and Brain
And even Punk and Bryan
Sorry I still sometimes forget
To say, Danielson
But I will always remember
Yes!
And so does Karma
You cannot bury Montréal
And the sins which made the villain
For Austin and the Rock
And twenty years of domination
All the way to DX with an attitude adjustment
Sting is **** kicking their **** in his 60s
There was also Benoit but that’s complicated
And anyway that’s Heyman
I’m still a Paul Heyman guy
© 5 months ago(!)
Rewind-a-Dynamite AKA Nom De Plume
FTR, Punk, and Mox
Going at it for almost half an hour
Let’s see who can
Outshine this graceful dance of sweat on canvas
Archetypes walking to and from the ring
Tagging in and out
The entrance and the spots
Tell the tale
Who will take their opponents’ best and come back
And who will stay down
Aubrey is now wearing rubber gloves
Because we might have some color
A pound of flesh on the main event
But I am already thinking of
John or Wai mentioning
The shield’s debut at the last leg of Punk’s championship run
Like two ships passing in the night
In Memory of Scott Hall © 3 months ago