by Greg Clary
Mike Tyson enters: no robe, no socks, no ring-walk music, black trunks, black shoes, white hand towel cut to fit his head, stone cold tattooed face. Mayhem arrives with this warning: Everyone has a plan until he gets hit in the mouth.
Greg Clary is professor emeritus of rehabilitation and human services at Clarion University. He was born and raised in Turkey Creek, West Virginia, and now resides in the northwestern Pennsylvania Wilds. His photographs have been published in The Sun Magazine, Looking at Appalachia, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, The Watershed Journal, Hole in the Head Review, Dark Horse, Change Seven, Detour Ahead, Bee House Journal, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, North/South Appalachia, Tobeco Literary Journal, Reservoir Road Review, and many other publications.
His writing and poems have appeared in The Rye Whiskey Review, The Bridge Literary Arts Journal, Northern Appalachia Review, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Waccamaw Journal, Rusty Truck, Anti-Heroin Chic, Sterling Clack Clack, Wingless Dreamer, and North/South Appalachia: Poetry and Art, Vol 1.