‘A Fight’ – A poem by request

Half way across the streeta fight

(thinking in pictures)

Found himself the target
Of a nasty metal heap.

The clunker slammed to a halt

(a breath in front of him),

Rusty doors screamed open,
Revealing some chesty preening.

Mad Men! Mad Men!

(do they swagger or do they limp?)

Surrounded this picture guy
In the middle of the street.

Glowering and growling

(huffling and puffling)

Narrowed eyes and flexing jaws.
Picture man fights today.

From the front, from left

(that guy’s behind you!)

A palm to the jaw handles you
And kick to the groin buckles you.

Elbow behind his head

(noses make a mighty crunch)

Swing that thug right round
Did he smash the fucking window


Back in the middle of the street

(never broke eye contact)

Picture man is grinning
Addled boys scramble off


So picture man:
He crosses the street.


A photographer friend of mine told me the story about how three agro men approached him looking for a fight, and he just went through the whole thing in his head, and found himself grinning at these three thugs.  Apparently he made them uncomfortable because they skittered off.  Cool story, bro. Cool poem, sis.

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