Two Poems by Tim Peeler

Rougher Beast

I took my training from daddy,

Drunken waking me at three am

With a belt buckle across my legs.

First three or four licks left red welts;

Then I numbed and hardened,

Never giving in when he screamed

Cry you little bastard, cry,

So’s I can stop, but he didn’t

And I gritted my teeth

And dug my knuckles

Into the bed roll

Till he fell into a coughing fit

Then began to cry hisself.

 

Rougher Beast 14

That preacher said if you try

Hard enough you can feel it

And I watched my brother walk

Down to the altar call, fall

On his knees blubbering prayers

And I tried talking to God

I said please let me feel it

Let me know that this is real

The widow played the organ

And the congregation moaned

But I sat my head ringing

With the commotion till the

Building and people vibed

Together like a mess of

Hogs smelling the feed barrel

When I opened up the lid

And I felt nothing but a

Hard knot forming inside me.

Tim Peeler’s most recent books are Henry River: An American Ruin from Lummox Press and Knuckle Bear from Red Dirt Press.