In South Philadelphia the b-ball hoops
in the playgrounds and parks mostly had no nets,
no nets on the rims—they’d been stolen
or ripped down after being torn by leaping teenagers.
When my son was a boy the difference mattered
because he loved basketball, he loved the Sixers,
he loved shooting baskets and there is beautiful satisfaction
when a good shot falls through the net—
“Swish” we said—“Nothin’ but net”—
and so as I moved around town I always noticed
where the hoops had nets
so Nick and I could shoot there.
The difference mattered. Life should be a certain way
but often the right way becomes unavailable—
the nets disappear—you have to be alert
to find the courts where a perfect shot really does go
swish. Life has disappointments
but you don’t want your boy to feel that life is
mainly or mostly disappointing
or that the Sixers on TV are absurdly far from his real life—
because he needs to believe
that life allows moments of sublimity—swish—
so even now when Nick is almost forty
wherever I see good intact nets on the rims
I make a mental note for half a second:
Nick and I could play here.
The difference matters.
Copyright © 2025 by Mark Halliday. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on January 24, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
after Pedro Pietri
We were nocturnal players,
Bats in ball, & ever since Don Pedro said
There are Puerto Ricans on the moon
The night is my cousin & the clustered stars
My cousin & Saturn’s little ring of smoke my second cousin
Though not the same ring as a freshly snapped Medalla bottle which
My abuelo also named Pedro apparently liked too much
But back to the moon the first rock dollop of sugar
& slinging hoop in the dark which we learned was a game
of approximation
Less math more muscle memory less Mozart more Machito
Like descarga more riff more wrist.
We set our eyes on not seeing but feeling a thing through, indeed
From elbow to hip wherever the orange lip might lead
Copyright © 2022 by Denice Frohman. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 6, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.