12

1.  T h e   M o u t h s

Every morning,

heading to the mouth

of the mine,

they study

their fingers

for the slightest hint

of the redness

they fear will come:

the redness, tremors,

loosening

of their teeth,

bleeding gums,

and frothing

at the mouth

they fear will come,

steal their jobs,

and send them

back to Mexico

and long, dark nights

clotted with dreams

of wages

they once made

for food and clean,

new clothing.