round three.

my bout with confidence -- a true heavyweight.

i've got reassurance in my corner
and i'm willing to stand my ground
i will not hit the mat
i will fall but i will not stay down,
right hook, and i'’m on par

wounded. but standing.

the only thing that will collapse
is a little tent labeled insecurity,
it's a piss-yellow tent they typically set up near the entrance
staffed with two guards built like bulldozers,
who have the longevity of feathers -- and fall just as easily
because they know the truth,
because they only speak in lies,
because the only security they offer is the lack thereof,
because they know that i have used words with more purpose
than they harness in any of their possessions

jab. gut. eye.
broken.
skin.
dizzy.

and i'm fourteen thousand feet above -- and you look awesome,
from up here you look stellar and harmonious
from up here any omni-presence would be content with its creation
from up here everything shimmers

stars. blurred. focus. pulled.

it's when we get down -- face to face
on the surface -- in the details --
this is where we find discomfort
embodied in the discontent of being knocked out
by truth.

04/29/2008

Posted on 04/29/2008
Copyright © 2025 Frankie Sanchez