Their bodies slap and thud
like sacks of rice
being hucked into a train car.
Their faces don’t mirror
the blows, perhaps it is numbing
to be so fierce.
It’s only when the blood
shows up
an honest red
that I remember
they are men
made of skin
and I feel angry
that we pay to watch them
trap the grace
of health in a cage
and beat it until
it is broken.
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