Someone ought to punch me
and lay me flat — punch me
and thus set me down — maybe a little blood
but most surely a swollen lip and one eye
full of red and a bruise around it
black and violet and tinging green
after a few days; then
I hope I will rise up
from the brown earth below me
and be back again
with a little scar on the cheek below
where I’d been hit but with all my brain back
with all my sass
and sarcasm
and angsty visions and such
and I would like then to forget it happened
like I forget to check the time,
like I forget to notice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T