Although there was no possibility of winning now,
Hakuin was determined to finish.
But was there time?

Already the final caber, Big Duff,
Had been put away,
And was now being brought back out for Hakuin.

But more pressing was the growing number of singers.
Not part of the Lughnasadh celebration,
They had booked the area for their own,
And were getting anxious to use it.
One of them, a young man, approached Hakuin
As far as Hakuin could understand,
The man was from a place called Hiphop,
Did a kind of singing appropriately called “Rabbit,”
And apparently had the name Fifty Pence.
He was nice enough,
But his pants hung low
Making him look like a oversized,
But child who was not quite toilet-trained.

But Hakuin’s attention was elsewhere.
Out on the field a young woman had strolled.
And she was beautiful.

“Yo!” said Fifty, seeing Hakuin’s gaze,
“She be mighty phat, eh?”
Hakuin looked at him.
“Fat? She doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her.”
“Yo, dog! Not F-A-T,
P-H-A-T: Pretty Hot And Tasty.”
Hakuin looked thoughtful,
Just as if he’d understood.

The pole boys were being extremely slow,
Perhaps begrudging the extra work,
And the gorgeous young woman was heading towards a stage.
Thinking fast, Hakuin whispered to his friend
The young man smiled, nodded,
And ran to the woman, apparently asking her a series of questions.

With Big Duff finally settled in his hands,
Hakuin let himself grow peaceful.
Without thought,
Without effort,
He stepped forward,
And tossed the caber.
A perfect toss.
It soared,
Flipped,
Landed on the heavy end,
And fell straight to twelve o’clock.

Those watching heaved a sigh of relief
And the Snoopy man ran back to him,
The stunning young woman, now released,
Stepped up to the stage
And summoned her musicians,

“Hey dog,” said Hakuin’s new friend, “you da man!
“But almost don’t make it in time!”
Hakuin shook his head.
“There are many customs in many lands,
“But one thing is true the world round:
“It ain’t over till the phat lady sings.”