|
 |
jsut dop it
I think Nike is trying to tell me something
about the way I live and eat and shop.
I think they know I need help and are trying to communicate.
It is not just the T.V.
Michael Jordan comes to my dreams.
We share a Big Mac and talk about life;
about how baseball is finished this time
and how most people don’t really care.
It seems the whole world is spinning in circular vain,
while perfectly good-natured folks sit staring off in disbelief,
occasionally good-goddaming politicians or blaming the media.
"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttt," Michael says long and hard.
He’s looking at his big, ol’ feet
I take a slirpy sip of his Coke and I kinda wait
because it seems he knows something I don’t;
something about the way people jump up and down
and flick and fake all over the place like devils.
But Michael just eases up his $1 million hand
gives me a poke and rises.
He starts and then pauses, "Man, white boys can..."
What? What is it? What is Nike trying to say?
It’s something about me, I know.
Some belief you can pay for in easy installments.
A non-linear notepad message in McFastPopFoodSpeak.
A something to have and become and see that you are becoming it.
He seemed on the verge of saying it,
struggling with the right words,
the precise combination of meaning and impact.
"Jsut dop it," he finally spat out.
|
|