I SURVIVED GYPSY JOE'S WRESTLING SCHOOL
C Ra McGuirt
along with the young cops from Brentwood
who wrestled under masks
so they wouldn't be thrown off the force
(as if being a professional wrestler
were any less honorable than being a cop).
the young cops were okay. we used to drink beer
at Brown's Diner after practice,
& for some reason, they liked me
even though i was a poet,
& my wrestling gimmick consisted of being a queer.
the young cops freely admitted
their reason for being cops:
they liked excitement&plenty of violence,
& otherwise, would have been in jail.
i liked their honesty,
& we don't talk these days,
but i hope they're doing well.
the prison guard couldn't make it:
he had all kinds of plans for his gimmick,
but he couldn't learn how to wrestle.
i learned that learning to wrestle
was mostly about learning
how to make it easy
for the guy who appeared to be whipping your ass,
which would make it easier for you.
i also learned not to be scared to fall,
because being afraid in a wrestling ring
would kill you just as quickly
as it would anywhere else.
i learned to give,&i was told:
if they won't give, then make them.
also: if you can't fake it,
you gotta take it.
Gypsy Joe was a mean old bastard
with a heart of tarnished brass,
& once he nearly stomped me to death
on a lawn on a radio show
to prove that we weren't faking.
it was take it, or rip out his eyes for real,
& shoot him to make sure,
so i took it,&i swear to god
i heard my sternum crack,
but i survived Gypsy Joe's Wrestling School,
& i got pretty good before i quit the ring
for reasons unrelated to the quality of my work:
i was too old for that shit when i started,
& i got out while i was ahead
but i survived Gypsy Joe's Wrestling School.
