So I wrote this poem after the results of the election, and I wanted to try and write a poem about everything. What I was trying to do was draw on ideas of Trump being president, and the effect that it might have and how people said they would respond to it. The piece was kind of experimental the way I tried to make things weird and jarring, and I'm not sure how I feel about how it turned out. Either way I hope it's entertaining.
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Boxing Match
Every four years they hold a boxing match
and the winner becomes the national mascot.
It’s a very important position
that is coveted by many people
but few have enough training to meet the requirements.
People talk about the fight for months before it happens,
they debate on their training,
the constitution of their body,
their stance in the ring,
all kinds of variables and aspects
that are debated and considered.
It was early November and the fight was beginning.
I was at college and went to see the fight
that they broadcasted on the big screen.
In one corner was a woman for the first time in history.
She was noted by experts for her tight stance,
her movement on the floor,
the stamina she possessed,
and the way she threw her punches.
She was discredited though for her methods of training.
Experts wondered how much she trained,
whether she was fit enough to be a mascot,
her opponent claimed that she was taking steroids,
and while experts denied this in any way
people came to believe it.
In the other corner sat a man
who was a pretty boy more than anything.
He lacked any kind of training
and was never seen in the gym before.
He posed for pictures
talking smack about his opponent,
and while he clearly didn’t have the stamina
he was the crowd favorite for a lot of men
who said it was too soon to have a woman for a mascot.
I sat down with my friends
clutching our bags of popcorn,
eager for the fight to start.
Whoever won the fight was the mascot,
and the mascot was who lead the people.
They were the ones who led the people
through times of hardship and strife
It began just as the experts predicted,
they said that she would take the lead
and from there she would have him out of breath
before eleven o’clock.
There was concern that the pretty boy
wouldn’t be up to the task,
and that he would somehow still win.
He wasn’t the type to lead,
he was arrogant and a bigot.
He lacked restraint
and he lacked experience.
He treated woman with disrespect,
talking trash about anyone he could
just because he could.
And some people liked that.
As we watched the two exchange blows
we began to realize
that the tide was turning.
People’s faces began to turn,
they grew concerned
as she took hit,
after hit,
after hit,
and then she fell.
There was an uproar,
people shouting to get up
1
People shouted not to worry,
that she would take a stand
2
Woman stood up and shouted,
they beat their breasts in a war cry
hoping it would give her strength
3
People began to pray,
hoping for some kind of deliverance.
The referee blew his whistle and slammed his hand on the ground
The fight was over
Everyone went home
People were scared,
that’s when it hit me
The next day we all talked
about what had happened
about how we felt.
Woman talked about how they were in danger
about how men felt more free
they cited their new mascot
and said that this was their nation now
and that they were the ones in charge.
They talked about where they would go
What they would do
Some proposed a petition for the referee
to take back their call.
A few argued that the fight was rigged.
Most thought about running away.
They talked about all the woman coming together
Sailing away to their own islands
Where they would wait out the storm in peace
Building communes
Living together,
Working together.
And if things got better
then they would come back.
That was the favored plan
But I didn’t know what to do
I often didn’t
so i listened to people
talk about what was happening.
Trying to make sense of it all.
