In Hand
The sword fighting was,
like most traditions, ill-advised.
The blades were real,
one a samurai the other a Greek replica,
edges sharpened.
One issued to each man,
as well as a baseball bat
for blocking.
The first night, it was summer.
Even back then, the rule was
that blood meant the fight was over.
Matt and RJ squared off first,
while the rest of us rolled up our sleeves
and said, this is such a bad idea.
This is such a bad idea.
J. Joseph Kane likes to imitate mountains by cracking his knuckles, He does this mostly in the Michigan area, which is, paradoxically, pretty flat. He is a graduate of Central Michigan University in Mt. Pleasant (a half misnomer). His work is forthcoming in RHINO and has previously found good company in Elimae, Clapboard House, Cricket Online Review, Right Hand Pointing, Central Review, Temenos, and the anthology River Poems from Lilly Press.
this poem is amazing…i can see the fight happening in my head…