I only say it after midnight

When no one can hear

And then I cry

Hot tears that fall

salty into my mouth.

I roll over and —

They run into my ears

My soul burns

With the truth

I’m a shirt —

Missing a button

A shoe —

With a broken lace

A girl at night

With a wet face

A girl who

Uses knowledge —

as opioids

Abuses asceticism

Relentlessly searching

For a concept or word

To temper criticism

Prosperity churns
black liquor
a kill switch for the locals

Byproducts of
a job worth doin’

Swing shifts
shutdowns
keepin’ our noses clean

Poverty churns
white liquor
a kill switch for the pain

Bootleg bloodlines
gunsmoke inheritances

Men died stubborn
like Popcorn Sutton
by that wood box

Rich folk
poor folk
all of it the same

We say they ain’t takin’ us alive

But here in these mountains
we already died