We work on dim comforting nights,
Kissing the cufflinks of the radiant moon
Until it throws us a moonbeam as a striking
Our mouths secrete acidic saliva
After years of our tongues massaging
The slick back of chewing tobacco.
Dirt particles crowd into our noses,
Seducing our sinuses
To create a family reunion for them.
They wanna stick like glue to one another.
Be like we-always-get-along brothers.
These brothers got some sharp skin lovers
And when they make love,
They tear the bed to bloodied shreds
And we feel the red stream into our mouths.
The moon snorts at us—
An obvious attempt to arise envy—
And it works.
We drop our tools
And we show our technique:
Seal the mouth,
Force the air,
Blow the sockets out.
We’re too blue collar to snort,
And just poor enough to fume,
So the brother’s reunion orgy
Ended with a splat in the moon’s living-room.
Until the shifting of our shovels
Start to dig into our dreams.
We’ll close our eyes
And see the empty promise of a legacy.
He told us there is treasure in these parts
And maybe we found it already
In the form of diligent, determined, hardened hearts
He told us to occupy ourselves with poems
Written in and confined to our heads.
He told us they should rhyme—
I forgot how to rhyme
All I know is how to