Ten
(Kate’s Recording)
they stand fixed
lost in the club room clatter,
gloves pummel on bruised arms
colours smudge blue
turning to indigo turning to purple
then back to default red
stung by the ring of the bell
caught in the low lights
a left jab an upper cut
slipping and swaying
thrown back on the ropes
a right hook spins him round
flashlights pop catch the blow
one two three four five
he lies senseless
his mouth an open O
six seven eight nine
a stranger in his own skin
ten and
OUT