Ali

Mike Bell/ March 20, 2016/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

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“I am America. I am the part you won’t recognize. But get
used to me. Black, confident, cocky; my name, not yours;
my religion, not yours; my goals, my own; get used to me.” MA.

Muhammad Ali,
one Muslim, one love:
American, Islam;
hand in glove.

Beautiful pugilist,
Stung like a bee,
jabbed by illness,
to slow shuffled-freeze:

Inside he flies
above canvas floors:
Cool sweat of boxing,
slugged in his pores.

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