High-T Testing Not Needed for…

…Marine battalion on Okinawa. 
As eight hundred green clad souls ache for home 
and island’s August moon illuminates
bright on a makeshift outdoor arena,  
all ranks derive comforting distraction 
via intramural boxing smoker 
violence. Fire and maneuver take back seat. 
Tonight, rifles set aside in favor
of gloves dispensing morale building fun.
Grunts aiming to smash each other’s faces,
like jousting medieval knights squaring off
in front of a castle’s king and his court.
In this case, C.O. and staff sit ringside –
waves of trigger pullers surround four flanks.
Flurry of hooks and uppercuts rattle 
jaws, evoking measured sense of blood lust
while relieving troops’ pent-up camp boredom.  
Boisterous cheers accompany each punch.
Any mention of low testosterone
levels superfluous. Macho tone so 
thick, lean Lance Corporal’s jabs rip a hole through
humid, swaggering sub-tropical air.