Be holding A poem

The brilliant fourth book from Gay, his first since winning the National Book Critics Circle Award with 2015's Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, continues his now-signature inquiry into feeling. Shaped as a single poem in a long sentence of center-justified couplets, the drama of this unfolding sentence is impeccable, a suspension that mirrors its subject: basketball Hall-of-Famer Julius Erving's midair "baseline scoop" in the 1980 NBA finals. An invocation of a video of Erving opens the poem's investigation into flight, falling, and Black genius: "ave you ever decided anything/ in the air?" Gay asks in an interjection. In the space of that air, he crafts a book of associative digression, exploring photography, his own upbringing, and the afterlife of slavery in the U.S. "he cotton, the unshared crop,/ let's hereon call it what it is," he writes, "loot, plain and simple,/ which, too,// my great grandfather's body was,/ loot, and his life, loot." When, in interjections and asides to the reader, a period does appear, it is not as a halt or a command but a gesture of care: "But let's breathe first./ We're always holding our breath.// Let's stop and breathe, you and me." This extraordinary book offers an unforgettable flight from the conventional boundaries of the sentence. (Sept.)

In one liquid motion, as graceful as any throw delivered by basketball great Julius Erving, the multi-award-winning Gay (Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude) begins with an elegantly rendered portrait of Dr. J ("his right hand in a precise arc/ beginning precisely above his head,// painting a broad and precise circle"); then opens up to the game itself and his own coming of age and engagement in watching, dribbling, and tossing ("I find myself again and again with my arm/ making the perfectly impossible circle"), particularly at Harlem's vividly evoked Rucker Park, including his own beautifully discovered physicality and a larger picture of the Black community, his verse streaming down page after page but told lucidly without a period in sight. It's a lot more than just "9 guys both raucous and rapt/ hollering and smacking hands and holding each other," though that's still great. VERDICT Gay seamlessly blends his themes, turning in a bravura performance that will be appreciated by poetry fans and ambitious sports fans alike.

Excerpt from Be Holding   and so Doc leapt, he left his feet,   which means more or less jumping with the ball with nowhere to go, and which   we're warned against by coaches from day one   for the ensuing requisite stupid pass or more simply though no less stupid   travel, also called walking , which the leaping often leads to,   keep your feet! again and again,   which makes the leaping--leaving your feet-- sound sacrificial,   the way in certain places, certain countries, or countries inside of countries,   you must leave by foot with nowhere to go, which there is,   and Doc, you should note, after the one dribble clasps the ball with only his right hand   without once at all in any shape or form using the left, which, among other things ,   friends, differentiates this from all the descendant moves--   Kevin Durant, Dwayne Wade, Steph and Giannis and Harden and Kawhi,   yes, Bron Bron too, I shall not be moved--   and using only one hand, which is amazing but not yet miraculous,   more a physical and therefore genetic fact (thanks Ma & Pa Erving),   Doc's hand becomes an octopus gripping the ball nothing like prey,   and with that ball snugged in his mitt Doc maybe kinda sorta thought something like   I am going to put this schmuck (the schmuck in this case being Landsberger,   though do not, please, revert to a simplistic allegorization of the journeyman,   which word I repeat advisedly) on a poster,   though schmuck is a word I'd be surprised to hear Doc say,   and the word posterize, (common usage: posterize his ass)   you might be thinking, is a bit of an anachronism in this poem,   in this move, which ostensibly occurred in the 1980 NBA Finals,   though we all know that nothing happens only when it happens     Excerpted from Untitled: A Poem by Ross Gay All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.