whatsit bout

In tying bows  
on crashing falls 

from telling blows

while taking bows,   
we lost our minds 
and cost our brains 
in taxing thought. 
We took such pains

on honor's chin. 
Which was allowed
- or back of head.
Bad form, hot shot.  

Then dragged up by 
one arm apiece, we
giddily found most
our feet, and us 
dead on. We got
the judge of all this
fuss to make a face. 
Declare our fight  
decisively the worst
just seen most 
anyplace - but 
technically we 
both had won. Disgusted, 
triumphed, we rejoiced 
in sweating hugs. We'd won 
the fight! As if we ever 
had that choice.