Game 68

CHI 92               UTA 85

This poem is dedicated to Taj Gibson
On behalf of the entire Chicago Bulls organization.
Grind on.

I hear that women
Who are unable to have children
Often feel like
Less than women.

As though there exists
One fundamental purpose.

One thing
Connecting her to her sisters--

A birthright
Snatched and vanished.

I cannot begin to understand
How this must feel.

But,

When I see a man with no legs
Begging for change
From my car window,

I become acutely aware
Of my ability to work.

And in these moments

I am my most masculine
And patriotic.

---

3 Haikus

A poem about
Taj is a poem about
American grind.

Once upon a time,
Men built cities out of steel.
Men like you and me.

I see Taj Gibson
In the guts of the Hancock--
Forging Chicago.