The last time I cried
was in a toilet, BCM nightclub
Magaluf 2005.

I had just witnessed, my hero,
Iron Mike Tyson getting knocked out
by fucking Kevin Mcbride.

Of course, ten euro entry and all you can drink
may have contributed to my
emotional instability,
that of the absinth I’d chugged back in the room.

He was the best
I explained to the toilet attendant
shadow boxing, bobbing and weaving.
Stumbling and heaving as the tears came.

Never again Mike. Never again.

James Lilley, 34, father of 3, Engineer by day, punching poet by night. James is currency enrolled on a Creative Writing Diploma having submitted his first poetry in the 2020 pandemic having work accepted and published by Versification, Spillwords and Black Bough Poetry. Currently an active MMA and Bareknuckle fighter.