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Norman Crane
Poems
Oct 2021
The Boxer
—the bell!
/ end of the 6th round /
He staggered to his corner, collapsed on his stool.
Enswell. Water.
"******* ain't tirin'."
Cornerman: "He will. All men tire."
He got off the stool,
ate a left,
and countered:
knocking the *******'s skin off,
revealing: not bone:
metal.
Written by
Norman Crane
Canada
(Canada)
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