The silhouette of a boxer with blue
gloves dances left and right around
the attempted body shots of another.
They are so fast the wind coming off
of their movements can be heard from
several rows back. No one in the room
has a face under the dim lights. They are
bright enough only to see the expanding
bruises on the fighter’s eyes. A worker
in the concessions stand presses down
on an orange lever to make cheese cover
any item desired. The sound guy in the
booth adjusts the levels of the ring mics
so that the punches echo in the way they’re
supposed to. Commentators loosen their ties
and try to improvise more ways to say that
someone is getting punched, but they
fail almost every time they do.
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