on television are beefy men
staring each other down
the camera zooms on one he
blows his snot onto the green
grass a quiet meteor my friends
and I see that half-drunk at
the tavern then proceed to
agree we are too anxious
to blow our nose with one
thousand people watching
I guess it’s just testosterone,
man, the comparisons of
muscles and tendons without
the tenderness of inward
reflection, a pool rippling
out from the inside then
pouring out over the field
(originally published in Impspired, Spring 2020)