Ponytail out the back of her headgear, she punches air, swings at the mirror, prepares for eye contact in the ring. Her own eyes now are not her own, they stand in for the opponent. Me, I could never punch a girl. But I might like a girl to hit me so I could feel the power in a female fist. (pray for me now) Oh, split my lip! But she steps in there alone, leans on the ropes, shoulders back, arms falling slack like water off of stone; checkin' the scene like a king surveying funked-out hinterlands, hands just beginning to sweat in her red leather gloves.
Art of Combat is only one of the poems in this book. It caught my attention from the beginning because even though not everyone would agree with the fact that it is describing the relationship between the character in the poem and her own environment, I perceived it that way. My interpretation of the poem was about a woman looking at her reflection in the mirror as her adversary in a boxing match. I understand that many times we limit ourselves when it comes to success. We underestimate our potential to the point where many times we don't even try because we have already pre-disposed ourselves for failure. When I read this I felt like it's a battle within myself, between my frustrations, deficiencies and insecurities v. my talents, virtues and capabilities, which at the end, it's not even a match.
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