Namath's triumph came in probably the most significant game in the history of Roman numerals." - Larry Schwartz
Began the evening badly, out of line,
&
off the path the Lord has set us on,
deliberately,
without excuse, the blood
hot
in the veins, coursing with speed, corrupt,
avoiding
the prophet, having switchd to 1st
Samuel,
then back to Isaiah, having read
Daniel,
Ezekiel, & Jeremiah,
these
iterations: poems ? following whither
the
Lord shd take us, or that slithy serpent
Christ trod, killing in Gethsemane,
His
gallant heel on the sibilant beast, His face
resolved,
in Gibson's flame-blue Passion: Jim's
masculine muscle & incisive eyes,
profoundly penetrative, beautiful—
Does that go in accord? We do not know.
The
Shroud of Turin: Yeshua's face razor-
edged, thinly signatured,
imprinted.
Dark
complected ? He the Lion of Judah,
more wise than Solomon, Scion of David,
more
rich in splendor—tho' that king amassd
his brazen wealth & gatherd hordes of wives,
dime paramours—kinglier than all kings
&
emperors of the earth, Who rode an ass
into
Jerusalem | Now to return
to
our confession: Certes, we've begun
tonite
in lust & lechery, Midway
&
I, whose digits poke these symbols out,
that
other : One behind whose mask "I hide
my self inside the shadows of shahame",
in
megalomania: Walter Mitty's
dreamy
abandon, a tale I have not read
but
lived, my idiot cranium plumbly stuck
in soil & cloud. Let us remember a day
In
'sixty-nine, & me a welterweight,
a sprout as high as Pop's benevolent belt.
We
watchd a box wherein were black & white
talking
heads, & on that day the Jets
united (contra Unitas). Separate bands
of
men, two leagues: alpha entrencht,
& beta brash, a fresh confederation
of
little Davies, Namath at the conn,
who wore his locks as one Eyeless
in Gaza,
gayly effeminate, the number twelve
emblazond
on the jersey, front & back,
prophetic
numerals: the cardinals
one
& two, the sum of which is three:
The
whole is greater than—you know the rest,
James
Haig explaind, but few rememberd: Mind,
Matter,
& Language; Time, Space, & Number.
With
that we're off & running, like those cleated
bunches
of eleven who huddle, hut ,
&
hike on numberd grass, helmeted men
shoulder to shoulder, nose to nose, who "gallop
terribly against each other's bodies." :
Another
James: "I croon my tears at fifty
cents
a line." And on that day Joe Willie's
guarantee
was granted, shut the traps
of
mockers everywhere & put in motion
a
new convergence of the twain, a first
&
latter joind in one far greater whole.
His index aimd to God, his word kept,
Namath
quit the field. But Reynolds scoffd,
the
game is cockamamie, greening galoots
colliding,
tussling like a pack of brutes,
&
what eccentric counting? Six strokes
instead
of one, a single, booted extra,
or two w/o the shoe? The world plays futbol
and
we this, this—but Midway interjected:
7 + 7 to save the world, the fourteen
Stations
of the Cross, Veronica, Simon,
the Via Dolorosa—Reynolds stalked
off, & hissd, across the limen.
12.11-13.13
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