Everybody Has a Plan Until They Get Punched in the Mouth

It’s Friday.
I’m watching Tyson
and Jake Paul.

But the feed keeps glitching.
Emergency alerts bleeding
through the commentary.

Outside, the fallout has probably
made it to my block.
Hard to tell.
The air was shimmering all morning.

I keep thinking about the lawn.
Whether I’ll ever need
to mow it again.
Whether the grass will bother.

Tyson eats another one.
The ref waves him on.

I mute the television.
The sky makes a soft, electric sound.

It’s not looking good.

For Iron Mike, I mean.

---

Boxing is not my thing.
Actually, upon further thought, I’m not sure what sport is my thing.
But anyway.

I watched some of this fight. I first had to research who Jake Paul even is and I wish I hadn’t.

Fortunately I always keep google search history turned off.

Netflix wasn’t ready to try and broadcast live events.

I think this is all I have to ever say about boxing. Forever. Let us never mention this again.