You have just taken the umpteenth blow <br />to whatever cheekbones you have left. <br /> <br />Your nose now is an orphaned limb <br />that hangs from bloody snot and gristle. <br /> <br />Your teeth are shards of broken glass <br />between the ridges of your gums. <br /> <br />Your mind is pig-shit, scrambled eggs, <br />and your thoughts are the intervals <br /> <br />in the longest count since Dempsey <br />stood over Tunney in Soldier Field. <br /> <br />And yet you still stand there and smile <br />at the birth and death of sudden stars, <br /> <br />an afterlife so imminent, <br />hoping the ref won't stop the fight.<br /><br />Leo Yankevich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/out-on-your-feet/
