Makin’ Jump Shots

He waltzes into the lane ’cross the free-throw line, fakes a drive, pivots, floats from the asphalt turf in an arc of black light, and sinks two into the chains. One on one he fakes down the main, passes into the free lane and hits the chains. A sniff in the fallen air— he stuffs it through the chains riding high: “traveling” someone calls— and he laughs, stepping to a silent beat, gliding as he sinks two into the chains.