Vlad's Poetry Pick -- Alex Long

After Meeting Muhammad Ali at Martini's Pizza Shop,
Kalamazoo, Michigan, February, 1998

He's too ugly to be the champ. Look at me, I'm pretty.
- Muhammad Ali

What needs to happen now
Has little to do with accuracy,
Or the mesmerization we feign
For all the obvious reasons
Regarding his single force:
A magic trick that ends
In his quivering left fist
Holding a linen napkin
That flutters like the resignation
Of a touched butterfly.
Let me remind you
That our subsequent applause
May invoke the old imprecations --
"I am the greatest of all time;
What's my name? What's my name!" --
Even as the children continue
To approach, as he hugs them
For so long that we begin to sway
A little with them, forgetting
That our distance is still
An exile from the first love.
If I could stake my claim
For once on the future tense,
Where the stars refuse to emerge
From the orange-flamed horizon
To which we are attached,
Where geometry will not soften
For even God the Man,
We would, with all our overdue respect,
Approach him with our hats and gloves
In one hand, and extend our other,
To shake his hand,
To tremble because of him,
And with him.

To hear more of Alex's work, as well as poems by Robyn Schiff, be sure to join us this Thursday, Dec. 1, Beaverdale Books at 7pm!