Sonnets Down the Stretch #2

2.

But the very possibilities

relax when we’re taking it one game

at a time—the way the sun sets

and rises like a billion times a day

being a jump-shooting team.  Those who would

flag a sonnet for its indirectness,

or whatever, relent.  Even the stretch is long

and permissive of countless questions of comportment.

Yet how long must we wear the boot of direct address?

Is not a jump-shot a kind of speculation?

A blog is never taxed by pluralism

just as the rim is never bent from distance.

If each game is a dream in the sway of unconscious

knowledge, I encourage you all to chuck it.