Tournament Games


In the corner played jazz tonight,

spending the afternoon

celebrating history,

they’ll recall the time they danced,

twenty years from now they’ll see the game,

almost picture where they were sitting,

imagine how it felt,

who they saw,

what mattered, and the throwaways,

like a half court toss to the lane

that trickles out of bounds,

it might have been that one,

or the layup just hitting the glass

like a brick,

no one wants to be that moment,

and the band played festive in the background,

fast break to the lane and a monster,

a big …

that nemesis I’ve always known,

ran me over with pleasure.

I stood at the line, and my first brick rang

standing on the line at State,

my second one, that dropped in smooth,

I scored a point in my first State game,

that single moment told me there


be more ahead …

In the background, the band played on.

Racism Breathes


we as a nation are appalled,


bold in our scrutiny.

Judgment’s wrath became center stage



painful in silence.

Ownership demands real.

What we suggest to be actual

needs be allowed to reveal

the certainty of love.

Hate is knocking on our door

the one that closes the outside

from knowing our angst,

that tucked away demon

forgets humanity

in favor of the monster.

Today we became a nation with opportunity

Allowed to hear ourselves above the insanity.