The Men Poem by Michael Chitwood

They'll show you how to milk a mouse.
They'll see if your ears have any gristle in them.
They'd stop in a burning house
to talk about striped bass.
When the lies get serious
they'll take out a knife
and sharpen a stick to nothing.
What they don't say
would fill a book.
You can read it in their shoulders,
in the way their hands find their pockets.
See, they're writing their scripture now,
With one finger,
in the salt that's been spilled
on the tables in the canteen.