The Smith Boys

two Mormon

fellows are at the door.

i hear the click

and push

of the storm doorknob,

the knocker

rapping.

i think it's my package

from amazon

that i've been waiting on.

three books

of poetry,

and another black sweater,

the others

all worn,

but it's tom

and harry.

two handsome young

men

with cherub cheeks,

and blue eyes.

they're holding Mormon bibles

and tracks.

a fountain pen,

a satchel of God's work,

by their side.

i'm in my underwear holding

a tumbler

of gin.

my black socks on,

a t-shirt stained with

ketchup,

they're as surprised

as i am.