And now, a poem from our favorite slam poet and newest blog contributor, Ms. Spelt.
Jam
“Ewwww. Sweat”.
He says.
He wrinkles his nose
and eyes her embrace with caution
as if contact with such copious perspiration
will cause him to melt, like the wicked witch of oz
little boys will spend their lives doing things
that would make a flying monkey blush
and bragging about it
But mom wants to give us a hug and kiss
in front of a crowd of onlookers
forget about it.
I think she looks good in sweat.
It highlights the way she is wearing
some others girl’s face
On her shoulder from where
She delivered a block, earlier
Wiping the paint off her-along with her smile
And any notions of passing.
She is a roller girl
And tonight she has played a valiant match
Only to have the score not reflect her heart and grit
And she’d rather hug and kiss her son
than give a shit about who won.
Not that she doesn’t play hard, and for keeps.
She just has a healthy sense of perspective.
No bones broken. Nothing hurts that can’t be kissed better.
After a shower, she’ll be tucking her son in tonight
Safe and sound
From a world that can dish out hits with regularity.
In a manner more bone and spirit crushing than she has ever
Laid on a fellow competitor
And she knows
The blows will find him, eventually
No matter how well she protects him
He will fall
And he will reach down inside himself
For the resolve to carry on
And find a memory of
His Mom at The Derby
an Amazonian warrior on urethane wheels.
And he won’t recall the score tonight, either
Only the way she got back up time and again
And kept rolling
He will come to understand
that often your best contents are revealed under pressure
but for now, all he needs to know is mom loves him
more than any trophy or hard won glory
that as she bent to kiss him, the sweat was simply her body leaking beauty
