Tiger! Tiger!

Tiger! Tiger! you're a shite,

Crashing in the dead of night,
What immoral hand on thigh

Could lift short skirts up on the sly?

In what distant, driven swing

Did you think to risk everything?

In what ho dare you, bare, enter?

When alone most sure to sext her.

And what waitress, what porn star?

Cheating standards not on par

With your wife at home, yes, waiting

While you're making your rounds dating

What the endorsements? What the game?

In what pair of pants was your brain?

What the golf club? What Ambien grasp

Rushed Elin outside to shatter glass?

When the Gatorade pulls their dollars,

And no longer puts your face on bottles,

Will you smile your handiwork to see?

Or weep at the sneakered feet of Nike?

Tiger! Tiger! you're a shite,

You fired the bullet that you must bite

What impossibly bad behavior?

Returneth to your cave, you player.

(Inspired by William Blake's classic poem: "The Tyger")