Jack Spat

He spat in the guy’s face.

Jack did not take kindly to the kibitzer,

Who thought my serve was good.

Walking off the racquetball court he invited the guy, Damon,

To discuss the unsolicited call  ... outside.

Damon declined, Jack spit in his face.

Jack thought his position clean,He spat in the guy’s face.

Jack did not take kindly to the kibitzer,

Who thought my serve was good.

Walking off the racquetball court he invited the guy, Damon,

To discuss the unsolicited call  ... outside.

Damon declined, Jack spit in his face.

Jack thought his position clean,

And had no choice but to dis Damon.

Jack’s sole concern;

“Would I refuse to play him after this”?

Feeling Christ-like I suggested 

I shared in the fault.

Had I not pointed to Damon,

Signaling a good shot,

While standing on the other side of the glass,

The incident would not have occurred.

What was I thinking?

Jack, nailed as a drug dealer, had a code.

“Get nasty first”. 

He had taught Greek philosophy at the college level

Before making money selling cocaine.

He wrote fiction, pointed, funny, active short stories.

Short, tough, and opinionated.

He took ballet, figured he’d get laid regularly,

As the only straight guy in the class.

Both of us white, could take on James Baldwin,

And push the brothers to read the Invisible Man.

I could afford lunch and he could afford to let me buy.

He was 65, told chicks he was fifty, and looked the part.

Told me that’s the only thing he lied about and asked me to cover.

Found he had a thing about Jews. 

Allowed me to be the exception.

I declined and that was Jack.

And had no choice but to dis Damon.

Jack’s sole concern;

“Would I refuse to play him after this”?

Feeling Christ-like I suggested 

I shared in the fault.

Had I not pointed to Damon,

Signaling a good shot,

While standing on the other side of the glass,

The incident would not have occurred.

What was I thinking?

Jack, nailed as a drug dealer, had a code.

“Get nasty first”. 

He had taught Greek philosophy at the college level

Before making money selling cocaine.

He wrote fiction, pointed, funny, active short stories.

Short, tough, and opinionated.

He took ballet, figured he’d get laid regularly,

As the only straight guy in the class.

Both of us white, could take on James Baldwin,

And push the brothers to read the Invisible Man.

I could afford lunch and he could afford to let me buy.

He was 65, told chicks he was fifty, and looked the part.

Told me that’s the only thing he lied about and asked me to cover.

Found he had a thing about Jews. 

Allowed me to be the exception.

I declined and that was Jack.