Posts Tagged ‘champion wrestling’


title and poem inspired by Jack Ridl



But if you were, you’d buy one of those thick rubber mats

and spread it out in the living room. You’d invite doubt

for a match. You’d shift in your corner from foot to foot,

crouched like a hunter, arms flexed, legs spry.

You’d stare doubt in the eye, that heel, and wait

for the ref’s bright whistle. The rules are not real rules.

Doubt doesn’t stand a chance against you—

not with your choke slam, your dropkick,

your iron claw, your pile driver. You

with your full nelson, your moonsault,

your flapjack, your guillotine drop. You’ll have doubt

on her back, begging you to stop. You smile at her

as the ref leans in, then snarl, then smile again.

You’ll let her make the first move. You’ll have the last.

Oh yeah, you’ve got this. The belt’s already yours.

God, you love this sport, this fight. Blow the whistle,

already. You’ve read the script. Hot damn. This is your night.

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