Friday, January 15, 2010



Pivot, slice, drop
widen your stance
don't lean over so much
elbows down but not out
turn the fist and think UP UP UP
set the bag swinging
follow it
lead with the left
the off-hand
the weak hand
the wrong hand
use it
use it
use it
Because what will you do when he gives you angles?
Turn and turn and turn?
Into the crouch
don't lead with your head
you're made low to the ground
use that
know when to come out and
give him something as you stand

I thought it was fear, then I thought it was anger.
It is not any one thought, any one feeling,

or any one memory.
Here is emotion and direction.
Like a marriage, I come to this with
all the baggage
all the beauty.
No thought, or all thoughts, or no feelings,
all feelings,
pressed and poured into steps and vectors and timing,
into so much speed, so many foot-pounds of force.

Enough, I'm no Zen master.
I'm not fucking Yoda
and don't want to be.

It is the shadow that I box.
The living, breathing opponent,
who weaves and slips my punches
and tests my defense,
and gives as good as he gets.
The bag disappears into him.

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