Standing In Line

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Readied the winds of change

would speak tonight,

fair warning,

a knee cap to the asphalt

the bleeding had begun …

 

and so he may believe

this might be a truth

 

He chose to ice the damage

knowing full well this body

would not desire the challenge

to respond

be the resilient one

hold fast to insurrection

 

and so he believe

this might be a truth

 

How ought the line respond

cut inside the weaker lot

forward we will resonate our steps

it is the American way,

we do as descendent find

sweet entitlement in crass negated

walkways, airstrips, bon voyage

 

I see the ghosts of my ancestor

still standing firm, dignity in hand

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Tournament Games

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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

could

be more ahead …

In the background, the band played on.