I caught a glimpse of Bigfoot outside my kitchen window;
He’d been messing with my chickens again.
Fifteen gone in nearly a week since he appeared at my farm.
I grabbed my Mossberg 500 shotgun and ran after him.
He stopped, turned around, smiled at me, and gestured for me to shoot.
Frightened and furious, I nervously took aim and pulled the trigger.
Before the shot hit him, Bigfoot vanished like a ghost.
I stood astonished wondering how he vanished and where he went.
A moment later, I heard a monstrous laugh and felt a hairy slap on my face.
I saw no sign of Bigfoot. He’d truly become like a ghost.
I ran in my house like a sprinter racing to the finish like.
I bolted all the doors, locked all the windows, but Bigfoot didn’t try to break in,
And I never saw him again after that. Maybe he couldn’t get un-vanished.
I reported the incident to the Greensboro police. I could see their smirks
And their yeah sure attitudes. I knew they thought I was nuts.
And now many people in Greensboro who heard about my sighting on the news
Think I’m a kook or a liar and jokingly call me Bigfoot Bob Boyd.

Bob Boyd