the Olympic is an old
fight center in
I don’t know how long
it’s been there.
I’ve out-lived one
announcer and any
number of fighters.
anyhow, the problem
with the Olympic
is that their restrooms
ought to be enlarged and
you see
there have been so
many riots down there
that each man is frisked
for bottles and weapons
at the door
and each woman’s purse
is searched.
So we all go in and
watch the fights and
all we can do is drink
beer after beer, and
most of the fights are
so good that we hold it
all in the bladder
and at intermission
we rush the restrooms
and stand in long    lines.
we crack mad desperate
jokes, each one jockeying,
looking for the quick
the old men are
but there’s a general
feeling of camarade–
black, white, brown, yellow
have to piss
most badly,
so then we all go back in
and watch two more
please or displease us
as we harass
the vendors for
more beer.

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