I love wrestling’s hard grasp on its carnival roots
where they want you to love them
where they want you to hate them
whatever emotion that pops
is still a pop
they’ve done their job.
your emotion welling up is the distraction
to empty your pockets
without you knowing

I love wrestling for the hard exaggerations
where right and wrong still play out
with always the greys pressing in
with the hero climbing up the mountain
with the villain finding new ways to break the rules
and the promise of a swerve
	that moment, after so much suspenseful build up
		the split second before the ref slaps the mat for the third time
		the second wind from our baby face
			when you find out
			they’ve been the villain all along
			they’ve lost everything, again
			there’s a new hero to cheer for

Wrestling is a dinosaur
where the broken ideas are recycled
again and again and again,
where stereotypes still play out
like they aren’t wrong
and your rage against it
is the point
it’s the pop

you weren’t looking
while the promoter
made deals with the governor
while the promoter’s wife
secretaries for the president

and your love for it
hides in a closet
because you believe the stereotypes
still

Christian Hanz Lozada’s (he/him) near-accolades include two Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations, runner up in the table//FEAST Blossom Contest for BIPOC writers, and almost dated Super Bowl halftime star Jessica Alba (if an initiated conversation counts). He wrote the poetry collection He’s a Color, Until He’s Not. His poetry has been published worldwide, including in Bamboo Ridge, Cordite Poetry Review, and Emerson Review. Christian has featured at the Autry Museum and Beyond Baroque. He lives in San Pedro, CA and uses his MFA to teach his neighbors and their kids at Los Angeles Harbor College.