BIGFOOT'S BIG LETDOWN at the bowling alley

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 He strode in proud with ball in tow,
A bowler’s shirt, that Sasquatch glow.
He slammed his bag upon the wood,
“I’m here to strike, and strike real good.”

The clerk looked up with widened eyes,
Then down at feet of monstrous size.
“Uh… what size shoe?” the question came.
“Just fifty. Wide.” said Squatch, no shame.

The counter kid just shook his head,
“Our largest pair fits clowns instead.”
A sign behind said MAX: SIXTEEN,
Which made Bigfoot look less serene.

His lip did quiver, brow did sag,
He hugged his vintage bowling bag.
“No shoes, no game?” he softly spoke,
Then sulked off slow in sasquatch-y soak.

So if you hear a thunderous sigh,
And pins fall down with none nearby,
Just know the Squatch still rolls with grace—
Barefoot strikes all over the place.