Michael Jordan Rules Poem by Alven L. Robinson

Sweat drenched, sucking air,
Crowds screaming Xanax fare - -
A game that's all, composite leather ball,
Not Campion Hall - - just round, pebble ground
For grip, hurtled through the space,
Elliptical grace at Newton's pace,
Headed toward a "basket" - - orange ringed
Opponent's casket - - but with a net,
A hole in it, somewhere in the Infinite,
Dropping through to touch the ground,
An alto sound to open jaws, circus applause - -
Hoorahs! ! - - natural laws or merely chance?
Leucippus circumstance, necessity as rule?
Kepler's velocity a tool? But for what cause?
What purpose for the shot?
What goal that can't be bought? - -

Michael Jordan, he would know,
A deity can purpose show
The reason cause is spent, in space/time
Increments, like on the clock - - 24 seconds
To the fan - - beer and popcorn held in hand,
An eternity at 93 a piece, in $350 seats,
Without the ball, without a quantum theory,
No particles to query, just a series of events,
Mind in collected tents, phenomena
Finitely bent - - the poetry in motion - -
Continuity devotion for the stars,
Both great and small, galaxies and salaries
Large enough to fall, into black holes
Or free throws, or Kantian woes on matters a priori,
When the buzzer finally sounds
And all is bathed in glory.