I HAVE

i have the candles i have the beverage
i have the living song 
the bells and the crescendo
the walk and the bath
the wave in my hair
the memories streaming and 
the memories mute
i have the light
and the assurance, while it lasts
i have the living song!
and the body brains all over 
and the people who know them some 
have gone to battle against them
within them and beside me 
i have the temporary peace 
pregnant and cool
i have the ascension
and the patience, while it lasts
to merge
i have the possibility of entering
the creeping indigo
and the imprints of the others
and the lovers
the spies the keepers 
that cling this weave
seasoned so i
can have it 

List poem of athletes I who think would make cool art in a fine art context

Derek Jeter

Quincy Hall 

Flojo

Ray Lewis

Deon Sanders

Prince Naseem Hamed

Caitlyn Jenner

Suzy Hamilton

After you died

I needed a name for you
To tell people who died
I had no name for you that felt true to me
That un-languaged gap
Says everything and nothing

The day you died, 

my mother wept first over your unpublished findings.

She finds solace in the words

of mentees you intimidated.

She has always found solace

in being a little bit above. 

You'd have respected me if I belittled you,

but I've cut that habit. 

You didn’t like me

You didn’t really like anyone

That was kind of your thing.

At least, that’s what mom said when I

mentioned that you never, in 25 years,

wished me a happy birthday.

No one speaks bluntly about

how a dead person was mean.

People say "quirky" instead.

I get a quick nod and a sigh, "Oh, yes."

when I say, "Warmth wasn't really his thing."

I visited a lot in your last years

I spent the money

I came to your home, 

I didn’t push

It seemed to annoy you if I talked about

Things that were meaningful to me

I ate your food, I was your guest.

I didn’t speak up when you belittled us.

The love she felt for you was real

I see her grieving so.

In her imagination, you are kind.

In her imagination, but to no one else,

You were a golden retriever.

You were her beloved elite neuroscientist.

You were her beloved judger of other scientist's methods. 

Her gourmand golden retriever window into a dream class.

I'm looking for the words for why science is so central here.

It's not new or interesting, but it's central. 

The culture of science, the religion of science. 

Feelings aren’t her thing either.

Of course, feelings have to go somewhere.

So I've had them for both of you.

I've been a foil,

Not a daughter 

(Not to mention, mostly very young)

I'm still paying the price 

for having once been a child

I try to tread lightly

and fail

I'm so damn full of feelings

In contrast to you,

I am such a relentless bother. 

I made the escape to you more sweet

And peaceful 

You took it gladly

You took so much of her 

No one ever confused this for a family

Family wasn't really your thing

And I never blamed you

You’re fucking welcome