One
Take the count
Stay down
Don’t mind the crowd
The hoisted towel
Two
Stay down
The air electric
The boisterous crowd
Count three
The water benediction
The lighting’s contradiction
Epileptic blazing holy
Four
Stay calm
True grit
Ride the overwhelming fit
Count five
Face down
Sweat sticks
Body crouching over
Someone mouthing six
Drops of beading sparkle
Opponent gloves lifting
Seven sounds like a bell
A drop on canvas dances
A towel is thrown
A scream is lofted
Down and eight
You flail at rope
You taste blood
She turns to crowd
The scream connects
Count nine
Your glove is red
Your head entertains a hammer head
Your corner Everest
Your eyes raised
To see her kissed and robed
You try to raise an arm
As the towel hits the ground
Count ten
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a refreshingly themed poem with good imageries.