
WE’RE COOKING AND WE’RE NOT EVEN CHEFS by Damian Rucci

for Rich Hyner
enough of this and you cure the longing
enough of this and you can find yourself
building mountains out of piles of dust
building meaning from the endless despair
but with this we are not broken
we are constellations of trauma and loss
we are cogs in a sinister corporate machine
we are doing just fine until the drugs are gone
but even swan songs have gentle melodies
so we hum and laugh and stumble over the words
like it’s not the only damned tune we know
we live by the golden rules of the ones before us
what goes on in this room stays in this room
& you’re not a junkie if you’re wearing your work boots
& that the counter in the closet isn’t for eating
but for following lines to their own conclusions
just like we’re doing, following each balloon to heaven
in the blood on the floor, our reflections
paint scarlet vignettes of better men
who great each morning clean and innocent
praying to their twelve-step totems
but that life was never meant for men like us
we were born to drink our pain from the work nights
to climb out of the gutter where we were born
to make the whole damn neighborhood proud
to greet each morning with our heads above our hauntings
the real truth is something that can’t be spoken
the sins of our fathers are scarred on our souls
we built ourselves from the ruins of other men's dreams
you can clean up your act but your eyes carry the burden
and ours hold the stories that only come out at night
when the party is over and our work boots are off
and the liquor outweighs our reservations
at twilight is when the dogs come out of the men
and we can curse the heavens and tilt our hats
to hell, and the silence that befalls us says it all
Damian Rucci's work has appeared in dozens of journals and is the author of five chapbooks of poetry including Don't Call It a Relapse. Damien is the founding member of the poetry troupe Nu Profit of Poetic Dischord and host of Bards on Broadway and The Chamber Cantos. Twitter: @damianrucci