Bug and Mouse

a poem about reservation saints

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

---

Bug was missing a thumb.
Mouse was missing an eye.

I loved those reservation Indian guys.

They drank themselves to death.
You can guess at the reasons why.

Bug was missing a thumb.
Mouse was missing an eye.

How’d they lose their parts? 
I don't know.

But I remember Mouse often dabbed
his face with a bandanna
because he still cried
from his empty eye socket.

Bug loved to flip his thumb stump
at people instead of his middle finger.
That made everybody laugh.

Mouse and Bug are forever enshrined
in my father’s Drinking Buddy Hall of Fame.

Bug was missing a thumb.
Mouse was missing an eye.

I loved those reservation Indian guys.

They drank themselves to death
and became salmon constellations
that are visible day and night.