Ok, my candidate has spoken, so I'm opening my clam (plus I had to wait until I could recall my username, so I could then deduce my password, so I could then log in once again. I might be too intellectually feeble for team Wirsing, considering that it took me a month to accomplish these three simple tasks). I offer this as an anthem for the Wirsing campaign, in which Karl vanquishes man's great scourge, the grizzly bear. Well, the vanquishing part isn't actually in the poem. But it happens afterwards. I can revise if it'll get me Poet Laureate.
Karl says grizzly would be the way to go:
“A return to nature. And who knows, maybe
I could beat it.” I picture him at eighty,
wizened in his fringed leather coat,
somewhere in Montana. Patting a cow
or chopping wood. Then the bear hulks in,
approaching with stealth – “Oh Karl,”
I say, “that’s a mistake.” Who wants to die
enveloped in bear breath, gnawed open,
natural or not? Lamplight ghosts glint
from Karl’s glasses. He refills my cup,
then his, with wine. We clink rims.