The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 7 | Page 26

22

Tough

I wanted to be Ralph Macchio from The Karate Kid,

togas with a Japanese sun. Pony Boy and Johnny,

Patrick Swayze in cut offs. In soccer, I blocked

absolutely nothing, wore thigh pads just to look bigger,

plastic elbow and Velcro cuffs to look tough

even though I only kicked the ball once,

ever. A shockwave through my body, someone’s

redneck dad on the field screaming RUN!

Back when you could get beat up for wearing the wrong jeans,

I tore the brand tags off my ass. Because poor means

tough enough to use your fists, to withstand the locker push

hand slammed into a door. Hey Bitch and hey girl

I know you like it when I pull your hair, push your head down.

I practiced jump kicks in my bedroom like Daniel-son,

walked without a car everywhere until my legs bulked up.

Instead of bodies, I kicked posters. Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee

That shot of him in Dragon, bare chested

and pissed, those three bloody gashes

on his pecks. His finger dipping into the red

then pulling it up to his lips.