Willie Morris was much larger
than me & struck me in the jaw
for no apparent reason. Grandmother
Gilmore saw the whole thing
& and said, Arthur, if you do not
whip Willie, I shall whip you.
It's always better to whip than
to be whipped, so I took the fight
straight to the bigger boy. Not long
after, fighting became a way
to make money: on the Galveston
docks, the fresh smell of fish
& stevedores sweating out lunchtime
booze. Thirteen & I was already strong
enough to toss a cotton bale out
of the way like it was a bad idea
& I could jump five feet backward
from flat feet. My fists weren't good
Then & those men gave me the kind
of beatings that made me want
to go back to the schoolhouse.