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Airball

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They could use your shot
hours outside, spot by spot
playing around the world with myself
and I never cheat
The shot's the legacy
it's the picture up on the wall
frozen in time- good form
use your legs, elbow, follow through
don't shoot with your arms
those people shoot with their arms.
You're better than them.
You're a little slow, but you can shoot
not aggressive enough, but you can shoot
feet barely hit the court but you never hit the ground.
So shoot.

I watch others shoot
and I see what's wrong with their form
their legs, they're shooting with their arms too much
I don't shoot with my arms.
I don't shoot.
My form is perfect. I don't shoot.
My legs are strong. I don't shoot.
The ball is there, the basket too, they've given me the space and I don't shoot.

But I could not make it
The ball may arc, may spin, may look like it's spent its life ready to kiss that glass
But it may meet with a clang, not a touch
or the net that should have welcomed it
denies it. stays closed.
or maybe it explodes on the way up, showering
us all with beautiful arc and pointed fingers

They could've used my shot
it's true.
I don't shoot with my arms. I have beautiful arc.
I can also write.
and run.
My imagination never ends.
So maybe I can let go of that one legacy
Kick the ball if I want
play three sports at once or none at all
Breathe. Sleep.
Read a book. Write a book.
Shoot with my arms.
Do whatever the hell I want.
There's more than one way to shoot.



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