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      February 13, 2010HeroIan Williams

      The hero wins
      because that’s what heroes do when you spend
      the money to buy the DVD of a movie you already
      know the ending to, not because you’ve seen it before
      but because you heard from a colleague in HR
      that it’ll make you feel real good after,
      it was the best thing she’s seen lately, and that’s
      with her being married and every morning pushing spoons
      into the faces of her two children
      so you watch it
      knowing the only thing that will make you feel good
      this evening is seeing a bare-chested man wail on another
      in a ring and another in a street and another in a ring
      in slow mo and the dff dff sounds of the gloves striking
      bodies in movies, which don’t sound like bodies for real,
      not that you’d admit to knowing that,
      and the hero
      doesn’t even look like heroes in the real world
      which are not the heroes in grade four essays either
      but this one time—stay with me—you dropped by a woman’s place
      and you were sitting at her kitchen table and she asked you
      if you wanted anything to drink and she opened the fridge
      and you saw through the crack between her body
      and the door only a pitcher of water on the wire shelf
      in the yellow light—you want to call her a hero
      because she’s surviving with her mouth shut
      or yourself because you’re so affected must mean
      you’re noble. Go ahead. But there are other words
      for you two.

      from #31 - Summer 2009

      Ian Williams

      “Last month it seemed like a good idea to join some friends and write a poem a day for an entire month. It still seems like a good idea—so far, so good—but I don’t know for how long. Everyone keeps telling me that eventually I’ll be spitting out phlegm and calling it juice. If you haven’t yet, try the punch.”