"Barbarians Boxing" by Paul Merchant
Every page of the atlas has been half erased
in a swirling cloud of dust, iron filings, blood.
A barbarian boxing, say the Greeks, when you
hit his face, he covers his face, when you hit
his belly, he covers his belly. If both sides
want a fight, does it matter who landed the first
blow, and on what day? In the lit corner
of our ravaged world a tree waits for spring.
from Some Business of Affinity by Paul Merchant
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