Knicks 120, Celtics 117: Should’ve sent a poet
A Wallace Stevens poem from 100 years ago re: the beauty of these Knickerbockers
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
II
I was of three minds,
Like the scoring margin
In the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
III
The Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
Are one
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics whistling
Or just after
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause
VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics is involved
In what I know
IX
When the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles
X
At the sight of the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For the Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics
XII
The river is moving.
The Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics must be flying
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The Knicks’ 120-117 overtime win vs. the Celtics sat
In the cedar-limbs
