The men in the front
have Modigliani eyes.
Brothers or lovers
of
Lunia, Jeanne, Anna.
Two men,
in the guise of pugilists,
try and kill
without being
killed.
Firpo's face,
all angles and bangs
watches the aftermath
of a single blow.
Dempsey in white,
knocked soundly,
over the middle rope
into the arms
of sweaty gentlemen
and the sporting press.
Lights in the distance
Frozen in a moment
In a daze
mistaken for
approaching trains.
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