A Fistful of Nothing

by July 17, 2014 0 comments

my nine year old
socked another boy
in the nose and
made it bleed,
they weren’t fighting,
he was just playing
too rough,
lacked the impulse control
I talked to him about
keeping his hands to himself,
“don’t make a fist,”
I told him
and i thought about
how ridiculous
that request was,
how we come out of
the womb with fists
ready,
gloves at the ready,
featherweight,
welterweight,
or heavyweight,
it doesn’t really
matter,
we are ready
to go the distance
looking for our corner man
we have fistfuls
of nothing

editors note:

We fight from bell to bell and never want to hear the man say, “TEN!” – mh

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