2 PoemsJosé Olivarez
When the Bulls Lose
some miserable fucks
dress up their misery—
they teach it language.
it mouths along to sad songs
& dresses in all black.
silly men mistake misery
for a real life being
when it’s a cheap party trick—
i’m not judging tho.
my misery is an ugly animal too.
call it fandom or nostalgia.
all i know is when The Bulls lose
my misery makes me kneel or play dead—
it’s me on my knees begging for a treat.
Jimmy Butler was Right
maybe there are some truths
we can’t hear
from certain mouths.
some truths we don’t need
to hear at all.
Jimmy Butler was right
to tell the Wolves they were sorry
without him. it doesn’t make him
less wrong. when i was nursing
a heartbreak, one of my homies
made me repeat after him:
“my life is already bountiful with love.
all i have to do is accept it.“
those words fell out of my mouth
like stones on a pond. just cuz you strum
some guitar strings, it doesn’t make it a song.
Jimmy was wrong to call the Wolves chumps.
even though he was correct about the facts.
i’m saying the truth is overrated. i gave in
to my homie. i recited his affirmation.
in the deepest lakes of my heart, perhaps
those words resonated. oh lonely ripples.
i mouthed along. but what good
was all my bountiful love. all my acceptance.
i couldn’t cuddle my bountiful nothingness.
couldn’t nuzzle the soft neck of nothing.
i strummed along to my homie’s affirmations.
i strummed until the guitar strings snapped
& that felt truer than all the lovely truths i couldn’t hold.