Fuel: a Poem

By: Katie Goldblatt

I am a fighter.

In the ring, the crowd marvels at me.

The underdog, the shell of steel

who manages to win the battles,

although she’s never the favorite.


They ask,

up in the stands,

with their microphones and camera flashes shoved in my face:

“Where’d you get the spunk, young girl,

the fuel to power you?

To inspire your spirit?

Where did you get the fire?”


I smile broadly as I answer,

the truest reply that I know:

“My momma.”


A version of this post originally appeared in “Tenacity” The Teller October 2019 Issue #7

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