November 12, 2024

another direction

Sunday, and we’re letting go. Keeping a loose tally of the score.
We’re not the players who came for last week’s tournament. Not part
of the ”best of” plaque tacked up behind the rental counter. We keep 
our laces just this side of tight, buy a Pepsi from concessions, high-
five each other after the wilder misses, pay for another game
when the frames run out. I’m glad we still remember how to do this,
let the guardrails down to see how wobbly our pitch is, nearly trip
on our pant legs at the release. Any chance we have to bristle against 
the demand of our ego is a win in another direction. Look how soft we are,
creased with loss, swinging through the exits when it’s over, practically singing.