if poems can’t protect you, you better learn to throw a punch by Steve Calamars

gorilla sunshine
pounds my
skin-shell

i drag a 300-pound
sled across the asphalt
out back behind
the gym

my calves feel
like cinder-blocks
my thighs tree-trunks

because words mean
little in the face of
fists and muscle

pencil-necks and
chicken-legs maybe
more often than not
produce poems

but fundamentally
the world doesn’t
give a shit about syllables
scrawled across a
sheet of paper

it only respects
a strong back and
monstrous forearms

sometimes not even that

so i pull this sled
across the asphalt

my heart pumping
ether thru my lungs

and pick up my pen
with the strain of
a dead-lift

and try to break your
jaw with the weight of
my words

the way i would with
my fists if you were
here right now—


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2 Responses to “if poems can’t protect you, you better learn to throw a punch by Steve Calamars”

  1. Steve Calamars lives in San Antonio, TX. He has a B.A. in Philosophy and works in a grocery store. The stuff he writes can be found (or will be found) in bottle rockets, Chiron Review, Harpur Palate, Ghoti, Gutter Eloquence, Zygote in My Coffee and other places he won’t bore you with. He is a recent Pushcart Prize nominee. He blogs at http://dirtywordsoncleanliving.blogspot.com/

  2. “He has a B.A. in Philosophy and works in a grocery store.”

    If that don’t just say all.

    – –
    Okay,
    Father Luke

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