Reclamation of the star athlete
We embrace him
as machines spin forward our artifacts—
lip balm, ticket stubs.
We think his best effort effortless
before the day spotless
as stainless steel.
I am afraid we think
what everyone thinks
about much the same things.
It makes the kings and queens
of our estate lower their heads
and go to bed. We built
the walls around the gardens
and it hardly matters –
we’re nursing our fragments
in the lees of every road.