Always to long for someone else’s gift—
To blow that blistering alto sax, to lift
Into the flash-bulbed air
For a reverse slam dunk while stunned guards gawk,
To have a punster’s cheek or porn star’s cock,
To capture, share by share,
Gold-plated Wall Street fame, to meditate
Beyond nirvanic depths or radiate
Beatitudes of prayer
Like any frescoed saint, even to make
A perfect triple-decker dark-fudge cake
Or master the éclair—
Means answering a roguish shout we follow
Down some smashed-bottle alley to a hollow
Recess, a doorway, where
If luck has tailed us on that lonely walk,
When we knock, because we have to knock,
No one will be there.
*****
‘Someone Else’s Gift’ was first published in Literary Matters, and then in Best American Poetry 2024. As I was unable to capture the original indentation, I have taken the liberty of introducing line spaces as an alternative way of clarifying the structure; it will sound the same when read aloud… – RHL
Stephen Kampa has three books of poems: Cracks in the Invisible (Ohio University Press, 2011), Bachelor Pad (Waywiser Press, 2014), Articulate as Rain (Waywiser Press, 2018), and World Too Loud to Hear (Able Muse Press, 2023). He teaches at Flagler College in St. Augustine, FL and works as a musician.
Photos: “Dreams” by яғ ★ design is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.
“Dark Alley #2 [Explored]” by _Franck Michel_ is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
Form in Formless Times 