Curry 5 Shoes

Hey man, I heard bout
the letter you sent
to that girl regarding
your Curry 5s.
That’s real cool, man.
I was wondering,
saw that there were no
shoes for those dudes
from courts discontent,
who grew up in cramped
spaces, coveting old shoes,
with hula hoops steadied
between storage boxes
in the garage, we grew
plastic angels were we,
convinced we was innovating
signature moves to
deceive our brothers
and other brothers. . .
Back then, there was
a team for every child,
But it seems we gave it all for you,
on the courts with fissured cement,
sizing us up in order forms
in church basements,
with uniformed confidence,
be hot in practice, young me,
go for the A squad,
fast break with speed,
tenacious machine,
and when you hear
the opposing coach yell
“raise up your goddamn hands, raise!”
useless against your honed J, sweet fade;
that’s when you made it, praise
the swish,
echoes, echoes, echoes. . .
now a song of school blues,
who promised a jersey
to a grade school boo
yoked to sweet nothings,
not honest in youth,
not secure this fool,
but regret for these dudes
who walked out of school
too late for high school,
tryouts, too late!
the shot clock is down,
on bare naked hoops with no springs,
bald-faced backboards with lame stains,
thwarting shots with great clangs,
pumping the ball with bent tubes,
struggling against inflation,
feel the pronounced bulge
the ball over pumped,
the sun goes dark as we
push back dinner,
because each game was manic,
the urge to body defender,
charge a man down,
the refs are our shadows,
and by your side,
a wizard of assists,
feeding you to the basket,
letting you float through the gaze
of that yearned for cutie
comeback, comeback to me,
We believe! We believe!
Just wondering if you can
speak to the Under Armour folks
about shoes for dudes no longer holy
no longer improving verticals
for basketball superstardom,
genuflect to the
dudes throwing up the rock
all by their lonesome after work
heat checking the
remnants of the swish, the
sacrament of the 3, oh blessed
shoes to be cool,
just like you dudes.
Because all is waning
and untimely be,
but we want it too,
to rock those Curry 5 shoes.

[Read “Thirty Miles at Sea“]

Randy Yee

Randy is an epidemiologist at the Office of the Global AIDS Coordinator, U.S. Department of State. He earned his degree in English literature studying fragmented poetry. He currently lives in Washington, DC with all his fragments.

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