deepundergroundpoetry.com
.:Combo Nation:.
...the sweet science of men
that distant bell, the counting to ten
counting the sums of what started coming sideways
this knight is left hooked; there’s NO hideaways
time, so compelling...that swelling;
propelling itself through second thoughts
the feeling of that second hand while..
just now completing that third thought
that head crunch more hands.. a whole bunch
speedily on their way to a knockout; spaced out
the left ear, him can’t hear the crowd shout
if he could just put some weight on that minute
wait a minute...dude, him flat-footed
more to come; him still in it..
...then not.
Published 30th Apr 2014
| Edited 12th May 2014
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