the fight

the fight’s on television.

It’s pay to view, but I shelled-

out the funds in order to take a look.

a bout of welterweights

is on the card before the main event;

two heavyweights are vying

for the title left vacant by an

ousted rule-breaker.

heavyweight’s usually hit

then clutch then hit then clutch

the clutches pulled apart

by the aggravated bow-tied referee,

but welterweights swing away

and these two combatants do not disappoint.  

but through the ropes a young woman

sits ringside with a man twice her age, maybe more.

she cuts a delicate cloth in the midst

of the dance of violence.

I spot her periodically when the boxers

brawl at a point in the ring where the camera

makes her visible.

her face is wide-eyed and she

cringes when a direct hit is scored.

in the 5th of a scheduled 10,

she’s seen bouncing from her seat, screaming

between horror and ecstasy as one fighter lands

a right cross to the jaw then a left

hook to the chin of the dazed opponent

who unceremoniously crumbles the canvas,

and through the ropes, through the cadence

of the deliberate 10 count I can see her,

motionless, wide-eyed and watching.