ode to Reggie Miller scoring 8 points in 9 seconds in 1995Tyler King
there is no blood in surrender. i remind
myself of this, clutching my own hands
around my own throat. in praise of the
miracles, the signs and wonders we stretch
our bodies to work. i would like that
to be all it is, but they’re always saying some shit. like one time
this older boy formed the cross with his tongue &
spat the word faggot at my buddy josh &
i & i, like always, was a coward but josh was only like 5’6
but righteous as all hell & so he went up &
wrapped his righteous hand around that boys quivering throat &
slammed him back against a wall &
he said “I don’t wanna hear another goddamn word out of your mouth for as long as I live”
& by god I never heard his voice again.
and certainly nobody ever told Reggie Miller he choked again.
And so what I am saying is there is still grace in fighting back,
spitting & snarling til the clock runs out.
I’m saying there has to be lines around our mercy. I will bend this far & no further.
What’s funny is how all those people in New York turned their backs &
made for the exits, so assured of their victory they missed entirely
that brief explosion of impossible violence. So I guess I’m not really sure if
anybody went home that night having learned something about
forgiveness, but at the very least they learned what words not to say anymore.