A response to a creative prompt...
On
Boxing
Noses flatten, ears choux-fleur
Hammers loosen teeth, split gums,
A retina tears,
Seconds lancet-pierce blood pooled beneath the
skin,
Towels wiping sanguine smears;
Up again – box on,
Grey matter thuds inside the cranium,
And redly swells,
Senses jarred – clinch, break, clinch, break,
Fluids mingle with fatigue,
Hit by a truck, stumble and fall,
Pass out to a blurred count,
Ringside belligerents howl,
A paying, baying mob,
Money changes hands;
I hate this – I should hate this,
But sometimes,
Just once in a while,
I don’t.
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