Hit Box Ars Poetica
You must arrive — fast or slow —
& play it slant. Take a stance: spread your arms & legs.
You must move into & out of your white space,
air that stings & waits
to fill — your dancer’s invading quickstep,
your enemy’s roundhouse kick, your captive’s
kiss — this is your hit box.
Straight arm is one box; bent elbow two;
a body in motion can be two or five
at any given time. You can’t see
your own hit box, but neither can they. In video games,
this is how you learn: you’re dead. Sometimes,
programmers disable rest defense
so you can’t admire what hit deals death.
Words are boxes too, you know, one will kill you — bitch,
little girl, mediocre, gimp.
Programmed to score, we love to watch
this hit box porn. Hit against hit. It’s easy to assault
just another box. You think distance is
a sparring pad but a hit is a hit is a hit. Yes, it protects
& it also teaches us to hurt
& how to
& when.
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