April 2020 / after illustrator James Boyle’s  Philly Tarot Deck, King of Cups

Half ships hidden behind his concrete throne; echoes of permanence,
like the bronze statue outside the Linc–Nick & Doug
deciding to run the Philly Special— that gutsy moment when Nick
shows Tom “this is how it’s done,” the biggest fuck-you
in sports history, I remember tweeting or texting
or saying out loud at least ten times.

 
After they went ahead, my brother lifted me up & spun
me around & around & around. After they won, we whooped
in the streets, everyone crying & yelling & hugging. My Dad
& my brother crying & yelling. We marched then,
singing the fight song or just yelling, chanting ridiculous things
like Big Dick Nick! & I kept saying, Super Bowl!
as if I didn’t know any other words to say, didn’t
know any other words at all.

 
James Boyle put Nick in his Eagles uniform in this deck as King
of Cups. In one arm, he cradles a cheesesteak like a baby–
or like a football. His other arm has his play-calling wristband
& in that hand, the Lombardi trophy. His expression is serious.

 
Geoff is my King of Cups, his head full of river water,
Cancer Moon flashing in his eyes. I think of him always
when I draw this card–not of football or the Super Bowl
(or the video my Dad said he watches again & again,
the one I made from my Snapchat story’s clips from that day,
one of the best days. Now, I wonder things now like, will there be
another Super Bowl? Not just for the Eagles, but at all). 

But I am thinking of Geoff, who is in the bedroom with the dogs
& our daughter, looking at Reddit on his phone & sighing,
while I shuffle the deck & eat a piece of dark chocolate
he bought me before we went to the hospital because
I was afraid that after I gave birth & healed enough to come home,
such things as chocolate could be of the past, inessential—
chocolate factories shut down, Targets & Walmarts shuttered.
The Easter Bunny fresh out of eggs & candies
& neon plastic grass.

 
So of course I draw Nick, Philly’s sweetheart, one of few men
whose legacy made & can make other men cry. He is alone,
on his throne, in the snake ocean of tears. Why can we see only half
the ships? Their green sails, the confetti raining from a gray sky.

KIMBERLY ANN SOUTHWICK is an assistant professor of creative writing and English at Jacksonville State University. Her first full-length collection, ORCHID ALPHA, is forthcoming from Trembling Pillow Press. Kimberly is the founder and Editor in Chief of the literary-arts journal GIGANTIC SEQUINS. She is a die-hard out-of-town Philadelphia Eagles fan. Find her on twitter @kimannjosouth or visit her kimberlyannsouthwick.com for more.