It's Called Jazz

Jazz ain't no moma boy's victory.
It's a kind of Grace...
The last fight
Between
The Beautiful people
and
The not-so-beautiful

When the final bell rang,
There they were.
Toe-to-Toe.
Two former lions,
Happy.

It ain't gonna make them cry,
Like corvettes
and
Chipped dinner plates.

Belt-high, towering,
He sang...
Something about Blue corners
and Red corners
and colorblind judges,
Who exacted too much street sense.

He said,
In a low familiar voice;
"I can tell you...
It's a privilege to be back."