Ode to Wimbledon

Oh Wimbledon, you are so dreary,
with your Draconian, ever-changing rules,
your dim-wit schedule-making fools,
and your line officials dressed like freaks.

The staff must be a little bleary
from all that shoe and shirt inspection,
and spot-on serious detection
of women's bums for two whole weeks.

One has to be on guard and leery
of reading British press reports
on how to best see up the skorts.
The contempt for girls and women reeks.

Wimbledon, you make me weary
you make outrageous, pompous claims;
you don't even know the champions' names.
In actual fact, you're clueless geeks.

Oh, Wimbledon, you are so dreary.