Poetry
Let things happen, this time for real.
—a flock of starlings. The small of his back caves in like a seashell kingdom, nacre
in bed her ninja teaches her the thousand ways to die
You fight, left right left right, left jab straight right, rabbit punch sucker punch, pitty-pat punches, uppercut, headbutt, an elbow a low blow a hook a feint a foul...
A round with a heavy bag is not nothing.
From this corner, the moss-marked fence gives the toothless grin of a sucker taking the blows of branches in storms.