Step into the ring fists a flying
blood stained ropes
splotch covered canvas
smashed mouth shakes all the way through my body as I fall backward,
ropes bouncing me back
g-forces whipping sweat off me
like a dog shaking after a torrential downpour.
No time to ask myself what's the fighting for.
snickers mouth full
feed dribbles onto the carpet,
tied tight locks
down right pad locks and dirty knots
and a dead bolt on the exit door.
I turn to face
a battle royale but everyone's against me.
I once saw the finish line
a mirage rising murky on the highway
and drank deep of hallucinations from a dreamworks spigot:
one or the other or both at once confused my senses,
and what is real fades in and out
comes round about
circles in swirls
in a hot tub thermostat shooting to the moon
110 degrees and now full of broth:
so hot it burns.