Nothing for days, then a message:
‘I want to see a fight. An old one.’
So I bring a fight to you.
You know nothing of these men;
even the most famous
get to slink in their youth again—
for you Foreman is Leviathan, unstoppable;
Ali just past his prime
flown ‘home’ to muscle back his title.
Not sure how you’ll react to violence,
we lie down again together—
your feet in woollen stockings
kneadable across my thighs,
your mouth close to my ribs
and their inmate: a pouting lifer.
Ali opens up with right-hand leads, you flinch
but soon you’re lost to the screen
where he waits it out along the ropes,
takes everything Foreman throws.
You don’t believe he can soak up
all this pain and go on standing;
we cheer him on,
winter softened in the tropic of his strength.
When Ali comes alive to put Foreman on the ground
I see a Hallelujah look as you turn to face me:
‘He won,’ you say into my cheek.
‘He did,’ I say.

Over the past two weeks, please list the items you have lost.

At the present moment, do you know the location & number of your teeth?

(in grams) Please estimate the weight of each of the following: Left lung, half-liver, three fingers on your right hand.

(in miles) Please estimate the distance from the back of your skull to the skin of your eye.

Over the past two weeks, please estimate the number of times you’ve attempted to start a conversation and failed (including, but not limited to: grocery stores, living rooms, when you are alone.)

(in incandescence) How much light passes through you? Is it enough to write a letter?

Pick a letter. Pick a new name.

Can you hear the woman singing?

What was your death’s taxonomy? Where is its kingdom & domain?

How important do you feel to others?

Are you sitting atop the creaking hinges of something only you can see?

Are you certain there is no part of your body that is missing.

Are you certain there is nothing missing at all.