If you leave two young boys together
they will begin to wrestle
because there is something
inherently brutal about masculinity
impose your will on the other guy
fuck him up.
A few decades of
trying to bury our cruelty
in sensitivity and civility
cannot erase millennia of
or fully tame us.
We can be trained
and shake hands
and be good sports about losing
but inside we are animals
built to survive at any cost
for whom losing is
a painful kind of death.
One may hate violence
and be aware that it resides within
needs an outlet
must be released
in some harmless way.
A gloved fist snaps back the head
sweat spraying in high-def slo-mo
a trickle of blood from a fresh cut
on an eyelid surrounded by swelling
none of which stops his forward motion
or his thudding counter-punches
and all of which makes me
and yell for more pain
giving voice to my ancestors
who knew only the brutality of strength.