Wrestling Man
For Steve, one of many adventures together.
We met this man
Steve and I- big
White beard, bulbous nose
As we were getting off the trolley
On fifteenth.
He approached us
A frightful sight.
“You boys wrestle,” “no”
We said shyly.
“Twins your size gotta wrestle.”
His face obscured by matted beard
Made me wonder: what’s he hiding?
Had he tussled with Haystack Calhoun
Or Two Ton Tony Galenta, maybe
It was one too many pile drivers
Into the canvas.
“An opportunity to manage my brother
And I to fame”, I think he said.
I know Steve wanted to run,
But I was too frightened to budge.
The next thing we were both
In headlocks and squeezed in a way
That said: “Show me how strong you
Really are?” We felt the vice and broke free.
Running duffle bags in tow, not speaking
About a wrestling career that would never happen.
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