Tacoma WA, 1930

 

Jack’s face shimmers 

                                        veil of cold sweat over

the vat of moonshine, 

nose scrunched                               like the noble folktale rabbit. 

He puffs up, ruffles 

                                             small muscles in a white 

undershirt to stand in front 

of his mother, little sister, little 

brother. He is thrown across the room 

             again.                                            The rabbit throws himself into the fire. 

He decides to become a bear.                  The rabbit becomes the moon. 

It’s called a shiner, a black eye.               Every night,

the same pageant. Every night,                the rabbit appears

                                                       less and less.