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Be Holding
Be Holding is a love song to legendary basketball player Julius Erving—known as Dr. J—who dominated courts in the 1970s and ‘80s as a small forward for the Philadelphia ‘76ers. But this book-length poem is more than just an ode to a magnificent athlete. Through a kind of lyric research, or lyric meditation, Ross Gay connects Dr. J’s famously impossible move from the 1980 NBA Finals against the Los Angeles Lakers to pick-up basketball and the flying Igbo and the Middle Passage, to photography and surveillance and state violence, to music and personal histories of flight and familial love. Be Holding wonders how the imagination, or how our looking, might make us, or bring us, closer to each other. How our looking might make us reach for each other. And might make us be reaching for each other. And how that reaching might be something like joy.
109 pages, Paperback
First published September 8, 2020
45 people are currently reading
1247 people want to read
About the author
Ross Gay
33 books1,483 followersRoss Gay is an American poet, essayist, and professor who won the National Book Critics Circle Award for Poetry and the Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award for his 2014 book Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, which was also a finalist for the National Book Award for Poetry.
His honors include being a Cave Canem Workshop fellow and a Bread Loaf Writers' Conference Tuition Scholar, and he received a grant from the Pennsylvania Council of the Arts.
He is an associate professor of poetry at Indiana University and teaches in Drew University’s low-residency MFA program in poetry. He also serves on the board of the Bloomington Community Orchard.
His honors include being a Cave Canem Workshop fellow and a Bread Loaf Writers' Conference Tuition Scholar, and he received a grant from the Pennsylvania Council of the Arts.
He is an associate professor of poetry at Indiana University and teaches in Drew University’s low-residency MFA program in poetry. He also serves on the board of the Bloomington Community Orchard.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 159 reviews
October 1, 2021
This October (2021), I'm doing #TheSealeyChallenge, wherein you read a book of poetry a day for the entire month. I'm a Ross Gay superfan, so it made sense that his latest collection would be my first outing. Be Holding is a book-length poem about Dr. J at the Spectrum in May 1980, but it's also about the ways we look at (behold) each other, and how we can hurt or help each other with that beholding. I thought it was breathtaking. I didn't want to put it down! Highly recommended.
September 10, 2020
Oh my god, I am fucking weeping??? Like, mostly BECAUSE OF THE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS??? The poem itself, but the f u c k i n g acknowledgements? I'm going to cry again just thinking about them???
"Your breath is so much more than your breath. Your body so many bodies. Your poems given to you. The cities inside us, all of whom spoke us, thought us, dreamt us, dream us into being.
This joy-ning is not without a little ambivalence sometimes in the world-destroying horseshit capitalist nightmare fantasy of the individual. Oh shit, I've never made anything by myself! Oh shit, I maybe am not a myself! Oh shit, I /definitely/ am not a myself! Oh shit, it's all been given to me. It's all been given to me. Oh. O. Thank you.
A poem's practice, the practice of poetry, must always defy the logics of property. By which I mean practicing the truth of gift and gratitude. Robin Wall Kimmerer, thank you! My breath is made possible by the breath of others. My breath is the breath of others. My is not my, and how could it ever be? And who would want it so? We talking about practice. We owe each other everything.
I want to honor the mycelial way poems are made, but not only poems. Lives. Our lives, each other's lives, I'm saying."
and
"And everyone I've ever talked about trees with. Or thought about trees with. Or looked into trees with. Or planted trees with. Or loved trees with. And every tree that's ever held me or listened to me or cared for me or fed me or cooled me, or would. Every tree I mean. Bound in gratitude."
I just.... want to weep eternally. Especially because recently soooo many of my poems have Ross Gay just seeeeeeping into and blooming out of them. Truly, there is not and never was a "my"--and who would want it so?
I could also cry about the fact that in the whole 96 pages of the poem, there are only SEVEN periods and one semicolon (all of which are contained in/on only 4 pages)???? The a u d a c i t y. My favorite Ross Gay poem, The Opening, is also so winding and discursive, so I was v. on board with all this poem asked of me. Still, I know I will read it again. I know this review is basically not even about the poem itself, but god, give me a second to Recover from the acknowledgements. I can only handle So Much, ok. I will try to Come Back to it.
"Your breath is so much more than your breath. Your body so many bodies. Your poems given to you. The cities inside us, all of whom spoke us, thought us, dreamt us, dream us into being.
This joy-ning is not without a little ambivalence sometimes in the world-destroying horseshit capitalist nightmare fantasy of the individual. Oh shit, I've never made anything by myself! Oh shit, I maybe am not a myself! Oh shit, I /definitely/ am not a myself! Oh shit, it's all been given to me. It's all been given to me. Oh. O. Thank you.
A poem's practice, the practice of poetry, must always defy the logics of property. By which I mean practicing the truth of gift and gratitude. Robin Wall Kimmerer, thank you! My breath is made possible by the breath of others. My breath is the breath of others. My is not my, and how could it ever be? And who would want it so? We talking about practice. We owe each other everything.
I want to honor the mycelial way poems are made, but not only poems. Lives. Our lives, each other's lives, I'm saying."
and
"And everyone I've ever talked about trees with. Or thought about trees with. Or looked into trees with. Or planted trees with. Or loved trees with. And every tree that's ever held me or listened to me or cared for me or fed me or cooled me, or would. Every tree I mean. Bound in gratitude."
I just.... want to weep eternally. Especially because recently soooo many of my poems have Ross Gay just seeeeeeping into and blooming out of them. Truly, there is not and never was a "my"--and who would want it so?
I could also cry about the fact that in the whole 96 pages of the poem, there are only SEVEN periods and one semicolon (all of which are contained in/on only 4 pages)???? The a u d a c i t y. My favorite Ross Gay poem, The Opening, is also so winding and discursive, so I was v. on board with all this poem asked of me. Still, I know I will read it again. I know this review is basically not even about the poem itself, but god, give me a second to Recover from the acknowledgements. I can only handle So Much, ok. I will try to Come Back to it.
September 19, 2020
Bill Walton gets absolutely BODIED in this poem
October 11, 2020
I just read a 96-page long magic trick. I know Ross Gay kept encouraging the reader to breathe with him, but I am breathless.
April 3, 2023
This poem is beautiful.
I, personally, often or sometimes have trouble seeing the beauty in nature, but what Ross Gay does here is use the elaborate gardens of nature and growth as the basis for human connection; as well as the perfect segue to twist (like the roots of a tree) scenes into other scenes, starting with an examination of the cosmic game of Dr. J. Gay takes shots of falls but he also captures holdings, arms forever outreaching like the potentially lanky arms of a Pro ball player. Additionally, these insightful scenes unto scenes feel to me that they perfectly depict a trail of ADHD-induced thoughts (interconnected yet trailing), the torment of losing track yet the joy of new ideas and/or they also depict what one’s mind does under stars (even blinded to them) late at night when eyes sting and delirium leads to poetic understandings of the world.
On a final note, this may be weird and stretching, but please do not skip the acknowledgments if you are to read this poem. I will make sure to keep gratitude for you, Ross Gay, when you appear in existence of machinations I next write.
I, personally, often or sometimes have trouble seeing the beauty in nature, but what Ross Gay does here is use the elaborate gardens of nature and growth as the basis for human connection; as well as the perfect segue to twist (like the roots of a tree) scenes into other scenes, starting with an examination of the cosmic game of Dr. J. Gay takes shots of falls but he also captures holdings, arms forever outreaching like the potentially lanky arms of a Pro ball player. Additionally, these insightful scenes unto scenes feel to me that they perfectly depict a trail of ADHD-induced thoughts (interconnected yet trailing), the torment of losing track yet the joy of new ideas and/or they also depict what one’s mind does under stars (even blinded to them) late at night when eyes sting and delirium leads to poetic understandings of the world.
On a final note, this may be weird and stretching, but please do not skip the acknowledgments if you are to read this poem. I will make sure to keep gratitude for you, Ross Gay, when you appear in existence of machinations I next write.
October 8, 2022
'and casting slow eddies into the air,
and do you know while composing this
I almost dreamed some doom
upon that child
dozing beautifully in my poem
dreaming now above the flying—
what am I
looking at
what am I
practicing
—he sprawled there in the sun
easy as a lizard,'
(p21)
and do you know while composing this
I almost dreamed some doom
upon that child
dozing beautifully in my poem
dreaming now above the flying—
what am I
looking at
what am I
practicing
—he sprawled there in the sun
easy as a lizard,'
(p21)
December 4, 2020
Ross Gay tucks several scenes from several photos under the arch of "the move" of Dr. J driving to the basket in a game against the Lakers in the 1980 NBA Finals. Was I holding my breath throughout this book? Yes. And Gay knew it would happen, so he reminds us readers to breath throughout this poem. People throughout this poem are falling or flying or holding or beholding to others. It was wonderfully, wonderfully done. Somehow in the 100 pages, we learn about Gay's childhood, the exploitation of capturing others pain on film, the weight of motherhood, Black heritage in America, and the importance of basketball.
February 19, 2021
Not sure how he does it, but Ross Gay's epic poem starts with one of most stunning plays of basketball history and then, like watching YouTube clips late at night, he guides us down emotional wormholes where we relive personal moments of his mother and father, and we can't look away. The physical and personal is effortlessly intertwined. I recommend reading this and then watching a bunch of Julius Erving highlights and documentaries (personally, I credit "Dr.J" as the reason I fell in love with basketball as a kid). And then read some more Ross Gay.
November 1, 2020
As I write this, it makes me a little bit angry and sad that this book has only 31 ratings and 6 reviews, as this should be required reading for everyone who professes to be human. Ross Gay has perfected the art of writing about one thing and everything at the same time. THus, f you are interested at all in anything, this is the book for you.
March 27, 2023
Wow. A masterpiece. I want to read it again.
September 17, 2021
Read in the shade
of the Lilly Library,
within the entanglement -
such a negative connotation -
within the beholding
of the world.
You should know by now I love this man, love the way he thinks and writes and colors the prism through which I experience life. And he's at it again with an epic poem about Julius Erving (aka Dr. J). Which is true and not, but I put off reading it for a while because of the claimed focus. Oh, how wrong my imagined narrowness.
Gay puts Erving at the center of a kaleidoscopic web of people, places, theory, experience, etc, through which the author looks to examine the interconnectedness, the entanglement, the beholding of it, us, all. It's an inspirational endeavor, but one for language or identity (i.e. I'm white) that didn't land every punch. That's okay; I'm still inspired, still awed, still better off for reading Be Holding. I think you'd probably be too.
"how do we be holding each other,
how do we be beholden to each other,
which is really to say, how do we be" (p. 97)
of the Lilly Library,
within the entanglement -
such a negative connotation -
within the beholding
of the world.
You should know by now I love this man, love the way he thinks and writes and colors the prism through which I experience life. And he's at it again with an epic poem about Julius Erving (aka Dr. J). Which is true and not, but I put off reading it for a while because of the claimed focus. Oh, how wrong my imagined narrowness.
Gay puts Erving at the center of a kaleidoscopic web of people, places, theory, experience, etc, through which the author looks to examine the interconnectedness, the entanglement, the beholding of it, us, all. It's an inspirational endeavor, but one for language or identity (i.e. I'm white) that didn't land every punch. That's okay; I'm still inspired, still awed, still better off for reading Be Holding. I think you'd probably be too.
"how do we be holding each other,
how do we be beholden to each other,
which is really to say, how do we be" (p. 97)
March 27, 2025
I have been waiting so long for this, and hadn't even realized it. A book that combines my love of watching (admiring) professional sports with poetry without becoming cliche. Sports seem to be one of the most flexible metaphors and frequently-discussed topics that we have in the early 21st-century USA--Ross Gay, you could say, is filling a void.
This work feels like one long breathless monologue (there is not a period to be found in the entire poem, although there are plenty of periods, parentheses, and dashes) and, if I had been smart enough to start it earlier in the day, I would have read it in one sitting. We start out with, and inevitably return to, the good Dr. J, but Gay shows incredible artistry in how he slips from one scene into another without section or sentence breaks. Those are the parts I kept going back to--"holy crap, how did we get from the city to the beach so effortlessly?" The narrator zooms in and he zooms out. And, of course, discussing sports leads to discussing life in the wider sense because, like I said, sports provide so many potential points of departure. Metáfora flexibilísima. What discussion of "who's the best (fill in the blank) of all time" doesn't end up declaring that "it depends on your perspective," which really means it has become a discussion of values and priorities. Sports, man. They take us places. The sublime, the commodification, the violence, the human connection (be holding and beholding), the timelessness, this poem touches on it all (and more).
The hyperbole that sports lends itself to? Yeah, it's there, but in measured enough quantities that it never gets an eye roll. Is this the greatest ekphrastic sports poem in the history of ekphrastic sports poems? Probably. Is it the most thought provoking poem about a YouTube binge ever put to paper? Quite possibly. Should Bill Simmons read this and have Ross Gay guest on his Book of Basketball podcast? Undoubtedly. Will that ever happen? Probably not. And the world is worse for it. But at least we have this poem, in all its breathless fanboy beauty.
Reread March 2025:
This time, I really focused on the transitions, how we move from one scene to another without any periods or full stops. I really love the recurring “x becomes a window” image. In general, Gay knows how to bring things back in satisfying and thoughtful recurrence. Like the ending. God, it’s so good. Just so, so good.
This is such a tragically beautiful and hopeful poem, which could be said for much of Gay’s work—the early photos he describes may be sad, but he identifies the humanizing and beautiful elements. He, even though he doubts himself, endeavors to return humanity that the camera(men) have tried to steal. This is so much more than a basketball poem, but I love so much that sports form the bedrock, or seed, for this meditation on how to recognize each other’s humanity, cherish it, and pass it out into the world.
This work feels like one long breathless monologue (there is not a period to be found in the entire poem, although there are plenty of periods, parentheses, and dashes) and, if I had been smart enough to start it earlier in the day, I would have read it in one sitting. We start out with, and inevitably return to, the good Dr. J, but Gay shows incredible artistry in how he slips from one scene into another without section or sentence breaks. Those are the parts I kept going back to--"holy crap, how did we get from the city to the beach so effortlessly?" The narrator zooms in and he zooms out. And, of course, discussing sports leads to discussing life in the wider sense because, like I said, sports provide so many potential points of departure. Metáfora flexibilísima. What discussion of "who's the best (fill in the blank) of all time" doesn't end up declaring that "it depends on your perspective," which really means it has become a discussion of values and priorities. Sports, man. They take us places. The sublime, the commodification, the violence, the human connection (be holding and beholding), the timelessness, this poem touches on it all (and more).
The hyperbole that sports lends itself to? Yeah, it's there, but in measured enough quantities that it never gets an eye roll. Is this the greatest ekphrastic sports poem in the history of ekphrastic sports poems? Probably. Is it the most thought provoking poem about a YouTube binge ever put to paper? Quite possibly. Should Bill Simmons read this and have Ross Gay guest on his Book of Basketball podcast? Undoubtedly. Will that ever happen? Probably not. And the world is worse for it. But at least we have this poem, in all its breathless fanboy beauty.
Reread March 2025:
This time, I really focused on the transitions, how we move from one scene to another without any periods or full stops. I really love the recurring “x becomes a window” image. In general, Gay knows how to bring things back in satisfying and thoughtful recurrence. Like the ending. God, it’s so good. Just so, so good.
This is such a tragically beautiful and hopeful poem, which could be said for much of Gay’s work—the early photos he describes may be sad, but he identifies the humanizing and beautiful elements. He, even though he doubts himself, endeavors to return humanity that the camera(men) have tried to steal. This is so much more than a basketball poem, but I love so much that sports form the bedrock, or seed, for this meditation on how to recognize each other’s humanity, cherish it, and pass it out into the world.
June 27, 2021
4.5 stars. Lovely interweaving of Dr. J’s amazing basket and personal stories to dissect what it means to be loved, beloved and beholding.
October 5, 2021
elegant, moving, and a bit of magic. the acknowledgments are a literary feast. more later.
May 20, 2022
Ross Gay is a beautiful human being who writes the most beautiful poetry. He uses words to float ideas as effortlessly as Dr. J's move which inspired this book-length poem. Ross holds the readers in the palm of his hand, balancing us carefully between the words and their meaning, the words and their unmeaning, the words and pictures they paint, the pictures that accompany the words and ideas that complement the pictures. He reminds us to be holding each other and in holding to see each other--to see where the other has been and where they are. Who the other is and who they have been...and who they and we can be. Ross makes us delight in language as he weaves language into magic right before our eyes.
But he also reminds us that in looking we witness the hurts as well as the triumphs...
" we do unwittingly when witnessing the unwitnessable"
and in the holding we should care for the hurting and be holding unholdable. He makes us realize that we are connected--we are all here to bear witness to the unwitnessable and hold what cannot be held. And to support one another in this way is the only be holding that is worthwhile.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting review. Thanks
But he also reminds us that in looking we witness the hurts as well as the triumphs...
" we do unwittingly when witnessing the unwitnessable"
and in the holding we should care for the hurting and be holding unholdable. He makes us realize that we are connected--we are all here to bear witness to the unwitnessable and hold what cannot be held. And to support one another in this way is the only be holding that is worthwhile.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting review. Thanks
Read
April 29, 2023“reaching to keep / from falling, / and lonely for him / I sometimes will study / my own hands, / which are his hands”
This book is another masterpiece in poetic innovation by the author of “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude.” As its subtitle suggests, “Be Holding” is a nearly 100-page-long poem. Not only that, but it’s all one sentence. Gay uses centered couplets with interspersed photographs to focus on this single clip of a baseline scoop by basketball legend Dr. J (Julius Erving). It’s a master class in paying attention, in the art of observing that is so crucial to poetry. Basketball — a subject not usually associated with poetry — is transformed into a lengthy meditation on not only the baseline scoop itself but family, American racism and Gay’s past.
Even I, someone who didn’t know anything about basketball legends of the ’80s, was transfixed by this book and ended up watching the clip in question half a dozen times throughout my reading, as Gay described things I’d missed. Describing Erving’s scoop, he writes, “and you notice now before the flash / Doc was probably just intending / to dunk simply though emphatically on his own side of the hoop, / but was compelled to soar like this.” Yet somehow the book is also about everything else: “my body is made of my father / reaching to keep from falling,” “we are talking about destroying the world / for the world,” “war photographs in this gallery / tended by a friendly white woman.”
Gay transitions seamlessly from topic to topic in ways that are sometimes arrestingly beautiful. He makes the reader care about what he cares about, writing “ — have you ever decided anything in the air — ” about Dr. J, simply capturing the wonder of the moment when, 50 pages in, you’re sure he’d run out of ways to make that moment new. This book is an example of what poetry can do and how it can teach us to really see the world around us.
Daily Arts Writer Emilia Ferrante can be reached at emiliajf@umich.edu.
https://www.michigandaily.com/arts/bo...
This book is another masterpiece in poetic innovation by the author of “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude.” As its subtitle suggests, “Be Holding” is a nearly 100-page-long poem. Not only that, but it’s all one sentence. Gay uses centered couplets with interspersed photographs to focus on this single clip of a baseline scoop by basketball legend Dr. J (Julius Erving). It’s a master class in paying attention, in the art of observing that is so crucial to poetry. Basketball — a subject not usually associated with poetry — is transformed into a lengthy meditation on not only the baseline scoop itself but family, American racism and Gay’s past.
Even I, someone who didn’t know anything about basketball legends of the ’80s, was transfixed by this book and ended up watching the clip in question half a dozen times throughout my reading, as Gay described things I’d missed. Describing Erving’s scoop, he writes, “and you notice now before the flash / Doc was probably just intending / to dunk simply though emphatically on his own side of the hoop, / but was compelled to soar like this.” Yet somehow the book is also about everything else: “my body is made of my father / reaching to keep from falling,” “we are talking about destroying the world / for the world,” “war photographs in this gallery / tended by a friendly white woman.”
Gay transitions seamlessly from topic to topic in ways that are sometimes arrestingly beautiful. He makes the reader care about what he cares about, writing “ — have you ever decided anything in the air — ” about Dr. J, simply capturing the wonder of the moment when, 50 pages in, you’re sure he’d run out of ways to make that moment new. This book is an example of what poetry can do and how it can teach us to really see the world around us.
Daily Arts Writer Emilia Ferrante can be reached at emiliajf@umich.edu.
https://www.michigandaily.com/arts/bo...
November 20, 2020
This is the best poem about basketball I have ever read, but on top of that this epic poem opens a wide window on other subjects. I was struck by the way this book discussed how events in time deal largely in perception and that we hold each other close in more ways than we realize.
December 27, 2024
what he says: i’m writing a poem about the basketball player Dr. J
what he means: i’m going to put your ass on the floor with a meditation on hope and grief and the violence of photography and the commodification of black bodies and family and history and nature. and also the basketball player Dr. J
read it in one sitting if you can. i don’t think i know a poet who cares for his reader as much as ross gay.
what he means: i’m going to put your ass on the floor with a meditation on hope and grief and the violence of photography and the commodification of black bodies and family and history and nature. and also the basketball player Dr. J
read it in one sitting if you can. i don’t think i know a poet who cares for his reader as much as ross gay.
October 3, 2023
Extraordinary!!! I can see why my friend, MaryLynn told me to read it in one slam dunk. She gave it to Jody, my son, and her Colin's best friend. Jody is a huge Sixers fan. I grew up in Philadelphia. My father went to St. Joseph's college, and followed their team forever. When St. Joes and Villanova played in the NCAA finals, our neighbors, Villanova Wildcats fans, left a dead chicken on our doorstep. My brother, Peter was the "Hawk" for the last two years at St. Joes. When St. Joes played Holy Cross, from Mass. His older brother took over for the Crusader and they roused the crowd together. So much of our lives...our parents and their eight children, was filled with this kind of energy. These were the times I felt like the luckiest person in the world to be a "McVeigh"!
We were serious about basketball. Ross Gay captures that intensity with poetry that has the intensity and rabidness of my experience as a child watching these college games, and watching my father watch these games. I love Ross Gay's poetry, and I love Ross Gay. He zoomed with a group of high school poetry students at Abington Friends, the school where I was a teacher for almost forty years.
The book-length poem captures the magic of this particular balletic "slam" dunk that was more "Magic" than anything Magic Johnson ever did, in my humble opinion.
We were serious about basketball. Ross Gay captures that intensity with poetry that has the intensity and rabidness of my experience as a child watching these college games, and watching my father watch these games. I love Ross Gay's poetry, and I love Ross Gay. He zoomed with a group of high school poetry students at Abington Friends, the school where I was a teacher for almost forty years.
The book-length poem captures the magic of this particular balletic "slam" dunk that was more "Magic" than anything Magic Johnson ever did, in my humble opinion.
February 2, 2021
Ross Gay has such a big heart, and it's totally laid bare in the 10 page-long Acknowledgements page. Both that gushy essay of love and gratitude and the 90 page poem that precedes it celebrates the way humans are linked together (the way we are beholden to one another). "We owe each other everything."
The poem itself is part explication of a YouTube clip and part reflection on the nature of photography. The clip is one of Dr. Julius Erving doing basketball acrobatics—flying through the air from floor to net. I don't particularly like basketball, but I love poetry about basketball.
"I too find myself doing
now holding
my breath
how do we be
holding the child
so broken are we
by the breaking
and the looking
how do we be
holding each other
so broken are we by
the breaking and the looking." (74)
It's hard to briefly name everything Ross Gay is doing, but it's worth the ride. And it indeed is a ride. There are only about six or seven periods in the entire 90 pages!
The poem itself is part explication of a YouTube clip and part reflection on the nature of photography. The clip is one of Dr. Julius Erving doing basketball acrobatics—flying through the air from floor to net. I don't particularly like basketball, but I love poetry about basketball.
"I too find myself doing
now holding
my breath
how do we be
holding the child
so broken are we
by the breaking
and the looking
how do we be
holding each other
so broken are we by
the breaking and the looking." (74)
It's hard to briefly name everything Ross Gay is doing, but it's worth the ride. And it indeed is a ride. There are only about six or seven periods in the entire 90 pages!
June 28, 2021
Ross Gay's book-length poem exhausted me and filled me simultaneously. Exhausted, I mean, in the best sense—it is a heart-filled, heart-wrenching poem of joy and pain and insight as Gay weaves U.S. basketball lore with the personal and the political, specifically how Black lives were and still are seen by some as less equal or worthy. In order to enjoy this fully, I recommend you not come into it with expectations and to be patient with Gay's tangents—they are long and frequent but they are incredibly worthwhile and expand the initial threads, which he eventually comes back to. I feel renewed and inspired after reading this. This book exudes joy and compassion and persistence. This book beheld and broadened me. One of my favorite contemporary poetry books I've read.
February 7, 2021
I have adored everything that Ross Gay has written, so immediately requested this from the library, only to find that it is a book length poem that is a whole love story - to a basketball player!! And the thing is? I LOVED IT. The forward made me practically weep and copy whole paragraphs into my journal to make sure that the words were always near me, and the rest of the poem was to be savored - read once quickly, and then again s l o w l y and with great attention to every word. Julius Erving (Dr. J) is certainly famous enough that I know of him, but HOW did this brilliant man/writer/poet write a poem for me (everyone) that is an ode to Dr J? How does that brilliance even happen? I would never have believed you of you told me that a small book that was a whole poem about Dr J would even be something I read (and to be clear, had I known the topic, I may have passed it by and I am so GLAD that I did not), much less be my favorite book of this year so far?
September 28, 2025
While watching footage of Dr. J driving to the basket over and over again, the speaker in the poem details the beauty, physicality, and momentousness of the moment while weaving back and forth through time and space beholding and being held by the historical, political, and human forces that forged his being, ultimately exploring questions we all should ask. What does it mean to behold? To be held (up)? To be brought down?
This single book length poem is written in short couplets centered on the page; I want to call them cliplets, which seems fitting. Its conversational tone holds the reader right there watching the arc of the basketball and listening to the arc of the story unfold as it comes to its resonant ending.
The images in this exquisitely woven piece will stay with me and replay over and over in my mind, all of them probably but especially the playground basketball hoops being brought down and Dr. J's final move, which I won't spoil for you here.
This single book length poem is written in short couplets centered on the page; I want to call them cliplets, which seems fitting. Its conversational tone holds the reader right there watching the arc of the basketball and listening to the arc of the story unfold as it comes to its resonant ending.
The images in this exquisitely woven piece will stay with me and replay over and over in my mind, all of them probably but especially the playground basketball hoops being brought down and Dr. J's final move, which I won't spoil for you here.
July 17, 2021
I think this is the most astonishing book of poetry I have ever read. It's as though the form – one long suspended poem – expresses the subject: the basketball great Julius Erving's famous "baseline scoop" in the 1980 NBA finals. (I don't follow basketball, so had to look that up!) The book is an amazing air-born, free-wheeling exploration of lift, falling, language, Black history, Gay's own history.... As a poet, it is incredibly freeing. Absolutely original. I will read it again and again. Twelve stars.
September 21, 2021
A beautiful breath, a swelling, a flight—this book soars. It leaps. It holds you as it lifts you into the air, your legs dangling beneath you, your arms raised above your head, reaching forward, searching. Ross Gay showed me a new way to say thank you, and to keep saying it. The book’s acknowledgment page is a poem of its own. Beautiful and breathtaking—this poem is one to be reread and studied as closely as Gay studies The Move.
November 27, 2023
"We all know nothing happens only when it happens"
"But let's breathe first. We're always holding our breath."
"The reaching is a way of not falling"
"How do we be beholden to each other, which is really to say, how do we be"
"As running toward what you love and what loves you is a kind of falling"
"But let's breathe first. We're always holding our breath."
"The reaching is a way of not falling"
"How do we be beholden to each other, which is really to say, how do we be"
"As running toward what you love and what loves you is a kind of falling"
January 16, 2024
“Your breath is so much more than your breath. Your body so many bodies. Your poems given to you. The cities inside us, all of whom spoke us, thought us, dreamt us, dreamt us into being… my breath is made possible by the breath of others”
How is it that the acknowledgements were my favorite part?? One long poem from start to end, and it was beautifully written
How is it that the acknowledgements were my favorite part?? One long poem from start to end, and it was beautifully written
June 2, 2021
Gay is a gift to humanity. The acknowledgments were such a delectable dessert.
September 1, 2021
“talking about holding/our breath,//how long have we been,/and how can I be//holding yours,/and you//be holding mine”
Sealey Challenge 31/31
Sealey Challenge 31/31
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