skeeter is typical of yella dove
patrons: works up the river on the line
assembling parts for the plant, drives an hour
each way and at the end of the day finds
a seat at the bar to drink a silent hour
before the juke and local ladies wake
his repetition-numbed brain and he finds
reason again to join the human race.
he brags of hunting he never does, he
brags of women he’s never known, picking
the easiest out of self-contempt because
he lives the life he swore as a teen he
would escape—his father’s life—but he’s lost
to dream in the real of his river rat fate.
David M Pitchford
15 Feb 2012