Bug was missing a thumb; Mouse was missing an eye. We loved those reservation Indian guys so why can’t we remember their birth names? They drank themselves to death and became salmon constellations in the night sky. Bug was missing a thumb; Mouse was missing an eye. How’d they lose their parts? Nobody recalls though I remember Mouse often dabbed his face with a bandanna because his missing eye still cried. Bug loved to flip his thumb stump at us instead of his middle finger. And we’d laugh. Those two are forever enshrined in our father’s Drinking Buddy Hall of Fame. Bug was missing a thumb; Mouse was missing an eye. We loved those reservation Indian guys so why can’t we remember their birth names?
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My Siblings and I Get Nostalgic
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My Siblings and I Get Nostalgic
a poem
May 09, 2022
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My Siblings and I Get Nostalgic