Fist a Flying; final.

I step into the ring fists a flying
blood stained ropes
splotch covered canvas
smashed mouth and I'm shaken all my body through
falling backward
bouncing off the ropes
g-forces whipping sweat off my face
like a dog shaking off water after a torrential downpour.
No time to ask myself what's the fighting for.

I turn and face a battle royal where everyone's against me.
Eyes lean forward my mind leans backward
and I remember a time when I saw the finish line
a mirage rising murky on the highway,
and I drink deep from a dream-works spigot
fade in and out
come round about
hot tub thermostat shoots to the moon
120 degrees
so hot it burns.

Fists a Flying; draft #4

I step into the ring fists a flying
blood stained ropes
splotch covered canvas
smashed mouth and I'm shaken all my body through
falling backward and then bouncing off the ropes
back g-forces whipping sweat off my face
like a dog shaking off water after a torrential downpour.
No time to ask myself what's the fighting for.

I turn and face a battle royale where everyone's against me.
Eyes lean forward as my mind leans backward:
remembering that once I saw the finish line
as a mirage rising murky on the highway,
and drank deep from a dreamworks spigot
fading in and out
coming round about
circles in swirls
hot tub thermostat shoots to the moon
120 degrees
so hot it burns.

Fists a Flying; draft #3

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 the sweat off my face
like a dog shaking after a torrential downpour.
No time to ask myself what's the fighting for.

Rotund Rasputin snickers mouth full
chicken 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 where everyone's against me.
Eyes lean forward as my mind leans backward:
remembering that once I saw the finish line
as a mirage rising murky on the highway,
and drank deep from a dreamworks spigot
of hallucinations and out of body experiences,
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 hot tub thermostat shoots to the moon
and Alice it's at 110 degrees
so hot it burns.

Fists a Flying; draft #2

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.

Rotund Rasputin
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.

Fists a Flying; draft #1

Step into the ring fists a flying
blood stained ropes splotches covering the canvas
smashed mouth shakes through my body and I fall backward
ropes bounce me back g-forces whipping sweat off my body
like a dog shaking off after a torrential downpour.
No time to ask myself what's the fighting for.

Rotund Rasputin
snickers mouth full feed dribbles out onto the carpet,
ties tight locks down right
pad locks and dirty knots
dead bolt on the exit door.

I turn to face a battle royal where everyone's my enemy.
Did I once see the finish line as a mirage
rising murky on the highway
or drinking hallucinations from a dream works spigot:
one or the other or both at once confuse my senses,
and what is real what is surreal what is fake
comes round about circling in swirls
in a hot tub rising above a hundred degrees
now full of broth
so hot it burns.

Fists A Flying; brainstorm

Step into the ring fists a flying
blood covered canvas sweat stained ropes
smacked then smashed in the mouth
ropes bounce me back with terrific g-force
My mind rings what am I fighting for?
Where is the exit door?

Rotund Rasputin snickers behind me
ties tight locks down right
pad locks and dirty knots
dead bolt on the exit door.

I turn and face them
a battle royal but everyone's against me.
A battle royal that I'll never win.
Did I once see the finish line?
The mirage rising on a hazy day on the highway
or hallucinations drinking from the spigot,
one then the other confuses the senses.
What is real what is surreal and what is fake
comes rounds about in swirls in circles
of a hot tub rising above a hundred degrees
now full of broth
so hot it burns.