Dikembe Mutombo Pantoum

by Michael Marberry

There are words we should never speak aloud
on earth, things we should spare one another.
Who has been more hurtful than the living?
Only the dead can still claim to contend.

On earth, the things we should spare each other
outnumber the names we have made for them,
those which only the dead still claim. Resist
shouting for sex, wagging your finger, wrongs

that outnumber the names we have for them.
But don’t believe that you’re too good or bad
to welcome love in your hands at the right
time. We are abandoned in the blank space

that gives no thought to the bad or the good,
since both are worse from life and its living.
We’re all alone beneath some lonely sky:
the words we need but cannot say aloud.


MICHAEL MARBERRY’s poetry has appeared in The Believer, The New Republic, Guernica, DIAGRAM, West Branch, Waxwing, and elsewhere. A Pushcart Prize winner and former Creative Writing Fellow in Poetry at Emory University, he currently teaches poetry, comics, film, and literature at Radford University in Virginia. He’s originally from rural Tennessee.