Monday, February 4, 2013


I've taken some blows before
but only to the heart.
Knocked out in the fourth round
of the title match then
sequestered to my room with only
chamomile tea and Gustav Mahler for comfort.

"Ich bin der Welt abhenden gekommen," I say.

Then I surface.
"I will fight again," I declare,
"and You will not knock me Down."

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