Wednesday, May 8, 2024

The toll (1987)

 The bell sounds a highpitched dingding and the boxers

Begin bouncing as if on a bed of coals, of all 

Their gestures a stony eyed stare is most intense

As they lunge and jab with fists

Trying to inflict damage on their brother, at

Worst a blackened eye split lip or concussion while in

Tennis, the man with perfect eyesight is

Called a liar, such the civilized game for socialized

Folk who prefer drinks with electrolytes to suds

From a cup


They seldom leave the court with dignity intact,

No pulled groin, though they often retain their jobs

Even after skunking the boss


The matador smiles and flirts his cape over the skull

Of the steaming bull, brushing aside at

The best possible moment, the cape becomes heavy 

With blood not his own, more are hurt in the

Stands from rose thorns, but if that horn

Finds flesh then it is curtains for machismo and what

About the mortgage, what am I doing way down


There by the tolling of a bell where the 

Toll gets took 





1987

Lawrence, ks

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