Getting your ass kicked in the ring
is one thing.
There are bandages enough
and salts and such
and a sponge you can throw when your opponent
shows he’s too tough.
And a bell chimes to let you know
your limits.
You come, you go, you fight for three minutes.
There’s always someone holding a bucket
to spit in and a guy with a belly who
rubs down your arms and says
“Stay with it.”