( / Ashland, Kentucky)

Our Boxer

Our boxer again answered the bell
Prepared again to enter Hell,
With the mouthpiece once again in place
With the vasoline applied on the face.
Our boxer dances, slides and walks
As the opponent also stalks,
Then comes the openings and the hunches
Both boxers throws their punches.
A left and a right and a then a quick hook
Just like in the boxing play book,
One boxer is hit with a quick upercut
Then they land firmly upon their butt.
But, quickly the boxer rises to their feet
Their opponent they know they will defeat,
Then at the count of 6 the boxer is ready
Calm, secure and the breathing is steady.
Punches are thrown and shots are blocked
With a straight right the opponent is rocked,
Our boxer is now on the offense
The months of hard training is no pretense.
Our boxer ran, jumped roped and trained
Worked the mitts and bags, and sparred, skill gained,
Our boxer tags their opponent with a left and right
While slipping punches to their own delight.
To us we see two gladiators at war
But, unto the boxers, they have done this before,
This is what they are trained and prepared to do
As stand, the boxer's two.
The final bell has finally sounded
To the next fight, the next night our boxer is bounded,
Though our boxer has boobs and not a dick;
She is, one tough chick

Randy L. McClave

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