Say Uncle.

SAY UNCLE

   People still recognize me. They say, Oh,
   you're that wrestler guy. You made
   three mistakes. Your lips
   are still moving. They say as big
   as two boulders, a lifetime of mallets.
   Quick, they say, grab my hand.
   The world grows dark. No hitting.

   For what transpires there is no excuse:
   flying headscissors, broken shoelace,
   barking mountain. To lie like this
   on your back signals defeat.
   Everything tastes like rubber.
   Everything looks like clouds.
   I put up my white flag.
   Leap onto your knees, they say.
   They can't get enough of that.