In the Alley

Chipped teeth litter his face,
bruised lips smear his complexion,
salty blood trickles from his nostrils,
but he still stands, hands clenched
as fists at his sides, knuckles cut,
as he looks down at his opponent
stretched out moaning in the sluice
running in the alley’s gutter.
His boss, his wife, his father, his life.

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