I Never Saw a Wild Thing Sorry for Itself



Yael Hacohen

When your CO singles you out in Krav Maga,
you’d better throw a punch, little girl.
Make your fist sing its soft goddamn
smashing into the bridge of his nose.
He’ll bob and weave, take out his clip
and whack it right into your skull. Don’t cry.
Not even in the barracks. Not even now.