literature

Poem For Balto

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Literature Text

her worn hand in mine
she grits through her pain
a long ways off from our teenage
hellholes, our salvation seems to lie
somewhere between right about now

and the next truck stop
the next beer
the next smoke

eyes wide, howling with teeth
we grab the world by the shoulders
and force it to see
us
our vulgarity, our love
has left so little room for us
we puff out our chests to create
more room then we were given
I see her on the periphery of
something between
tank girl and a wolf but
with a big faulty heart and
beer in her blood
she's got a lot to learn
and a lot to teach me
(already taught me)
so I think
we should do it together
with our hands gripping
warm skin and bone
fucking each other, ourselves
so proud that we didn't
jump that bridge
pick up that dirty rig that
the boys in class left for us, with their snarling
teeth and our bruised hands, now
holding each others
instead of their skulls
we both laugh from our bellies
and spit from our hearts
and maybe at

that next truck stop
that next beer
that next smoke

we can press our dirty lips together,
and survive.
...
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