Bulls Bard--The Verses
  • About
  • 2016-17 Season
  • 2015-16 Season
    • Summer 2016
  • 2014-15 Season
    • Summer 2015
  • Store
  • Contact

Game 35

1/10/2016

0 Comments

 

​CHI 107               ATL 120

James was the best athlete in our class.

Grabbing rim in sixth grade
And dunking in seventh.

Good at everything--
Seemingly naturally.

Tall,
Fast,
Handsome
Black kid.

Mad swagger--

The first boy I saw
Put his hands on a girls ass
At a school dance.

And she let him.

Alex seemed his opposite.

A short,
Squirrely,
Weird looking
White boy

Best known for his froggy voice
And his crooked mouth.

Late middle pick.
Tough but unexceptional.

Wound tight.

The first boy i knew
Who had surgery
To correct his cleft lip.

A visible scar
Drawn diagonally down
The middle of his mouth,
Nose to chin.

So--
Some days in school,
In those more meaningful minutes
Not wasted by adults,

In the quiet crevices
Where truth hides,

Boys wrestle arms.

A primal ritual.
A magical teacher of secrets.

This day,
Apparently,
Alex had surprised some people.

And James,
Of course,
Heard about it.

A showdown was inevitable.

Walking home from school,
It happened.

There was very little fanfare--
Nine or ten of us
Crowded around some stranger’s car.

Alex and James,
Each on one knee,
Elbows on the hood of a powder-blue Cadillac.

The whole thing
Took about three seconds.

James took the loss well--
The first one
Any of us
Had ever seen him take.

He smiled his handsome smile
And shook his handsome head
And was like:
Damn Alex,
You’re strong.

And he laughed
And patted Alex on the back.

And Alex was gracious--
Never bragging.
Just smiling his crooked little
Scar-crossed smile.

Yeah, thanks,
He croaked.
I lift weights with my dad.

And with that exchange,
This intimate group
Learned something big.

This changed nothing--
Not really, anyway.

And that was okay.
More than okay.

This event--
These few seconds on Hinman Avenue--
Did not turn the world on its head.

And maybe
If something like this--
Something that feels so gigantic
And uncomebackable
Doesn’t shake us off the Earth,

Maybe nothing will.

Maybe we’re safe

Even if we’re more Alex
Than James.
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    Poet Laureate of the
    Chicago Bulls

    Archives

    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

    Click to set custom
Proudly powered by Weebly