ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
literature
Keeping Digging
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
We work on dim comforting nights,
Kissing the cufflinks of the radiant moon
Until it throws us a moonbeam as a striking
Tip.
Our mouths secrete acidic saliva
After years of our tongues massaging
The slick back of chewing tobacco.
We dig
And dig
And dig.
Dirt particles crowd into our noses,
Seducing our sinuses
To create a family reunion for them.
They wanna stick like glue to one another.
Be like we-always-get-along brothers.
These brothers got some sharp skin lovers
And when they make love,
They tear the bed to bloodied shreds
And we feel the red stream into our mouths.
The moon snorts at us—
An obvious attempt to arise envy—
And it works.
We drop our tools
And we show our technique:
Seal the mouth,
Force the air,
Blow the sockets out.
We’re too blue collar to snort,
And just poor enough to fume,
So the brother’s reunion orgy
Ended with a splat in the moon’s living-room.
We dig
And dig
And dig
Until the shifting of our shovels
Start to dig into our dreams.
We’ll close our eyes
And see the empty promise of a legacy.
He told us there is treasure in these parts
And maybe we found it already
In the form of diligent, determined, hardened hearts
He told us to occupy ourselves with poems
Written in and confined to our heads.
He told us they should rhyme—
Consistently.
I forgot how to rhyme
Consistently.
I’ve forgotten.
All I know is how to
Dig
And dig
And dig.
Kissing the cufflinks of the radiant moon
Until it throws us a moonbeam as a striking
Tip.
Our mouths secrete acidic saliva
After years of our tongues massaging
The slick back of chewing tobacco.
We dig
And dig
And dig.
Dirt particles crowd into our noses,
Seducing our sinuses
To create a family reunion for them.
They wanna stick like glue to one another.
Be like we-always-get-along brothers.
These brothers got some sharp skin lovers
And when they make love,
They tear the bed to bloodied shreds
And we feel the red stream into our mouths.
The moon snorts at us—
An obvious attempt to arise envy—
And it works.
We drop our tools
And we show our technique:
Seal the mouth,
Force the air,
Blow the sockets out.
We’re too blue collar to snort,
And just poor enough to fume,
So the brother’s reunion orgy
Ended with a splat in the moon’s living-room.
We dig
And dig
And dig
Until the shifting of our shovels
Start to dig into our dreams.
We’ll close our eyes
And see the empty promise of a legacy.
He told us there is treasure in these parts
And maybe we found it already
In the form of diligent, determined, hardened hearts
He told us to occupy ourselves with poems
Written in and confined to our heads.
He told us they should rhyme—
Consistently.
I forgot how to rhyme
Consistently.
I’ve forgotten.
All I know is how to
Dig
And dig
And dig.
Suggested Collections
This poem is an extended metaphor. They are digging (searching) for something just because a man told them to. They don't know what they're searching for, but they've been told how to search for it. They received tips on how to occupy themselves mentally, but they've forgotten them and only remember how to dig.
What does this compare to in our world?
We are told that we are to reach certain goals in our young lives. These goals are vague concepts that don't have universal definition. We need to grow up? What exactly does that mean? Do we need to be more responsible for ourselves or be able to hold responsibility for others or both? We need to be successful? Does that mean we need to earn a lot of money or feel a true sense of fulfillment or both? We're told how to reach these goals and receive tips on how to occupy ourselves on the journey, but we often get too lost in the grind to explore ourselves outside of it. We deem these tips useless and stick to what's easier, what's mechanical (the grind) and get stuck in a perpetual state of chasing a concept we're not even fully sure what it means until we break lose of the grip of the grind, or in this poem, we stop digging.
What does this compare to in our world?
We are told that we are to reach certain goals in our young lives. These goals are vague concepts that don't have universal definition. We need to grow up? What exactly does that mean? Do we need to be more responsible for ourselves or be able to hold responsibility for others or both? We need to be successful? Does that mean we need to earn a lot of money or feel a true sense of fulfillment or both? We're told how to reach these goals and receive tips on how to occupy ourselves on the journey, but we often get too lost in the grind to explore ourselves outside of it. We deem these tips useless and stick to what's easier, what's mechanical (the grind) and get stuck in a perpetual state of chasing a concept we're not even fully sure what it means until we break lose of the grip of the grind, or in this poem, we stop digging.
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In