Boxing

Yellow wet faces with yellow wet mouths
Squawk open like birds beaks screaming 
And fluttering against the sides of the cage from the outside
Pecking at the flesh and juice trapped inside of it 
Cheering as blood cataracts like red wine over lips
And their coaches drench them soaking the blood pink
Diluting the violence as not that bad with a bottle of water dripping down their scalp
Come on man, get up there, keep your hands up
Make your own knuckles bleed just to make another man bleed
Until his skull only a fourth of an inch thick rattles back and forth 
Like a bobblehead breaking 
And the lightning pumps through their fists 
Flashing in synchrony to the camera clicks
And he screams through the retching of blood 
As the other man carves into his chest like the carcass of cow meat
And the birds flicker and squelch 
As his body chokes on bruises and ruptured veins 
Life contorting into misshapen angles as thunder rumbles the mat
And they all love him, love me, love the blood, the guts, the lights, pain, and sweat 
Until you fall and the birds scatter like a stirred field and take to the sky
And you are naked, body ground and cracked
Bleeding on the yellow wet shower floor 
Of the yellow wet locker room 
With no cameras flickering, or crowd packed in to watch your body fracture
Like a twig snapping underfoot 
So I am alone in an ocean of my own blood
The shower head diluting the truth pink
Telling myself it's okay it's okay 
If along with your body your soul has to break. 

-anna sluder

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