Jack Johnson Does the Eagle Rock
Perhaps he left the newspaper stand that morning
dazed, a few pennies lighter.
The illustration of the crippled ocean liner
with the berth he had the money
But not the skin to buy
Engraving itself
On that portion of the mind reserved for
lucky breaks.
Perhaps the newsboy, a figure too small to
bring back,
Actually heard his laugh,
As the S.S. Titanic, sans one prize fighter,
Goes down again all over New York,
Watched his body dance
As his arms lift the ship, now a simple millimeter thick,
above his head
In the bustling air, lift it up
As though it was meant to happen.
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