Worm Dirt

"What's in the can?"
I asked curiously in grandma's living room -
shades drawn, TV always on.

Before he quit tabaco,
before he was brushed
with salt water and salt tears,
he offered me my first dip
of my short five years.

Unwrapping the dingy white wrapper,
I plopped the sticky brown mess on to my tongue.
Immediately my taste buds recoiled
and I spit out the nastiest tasting concoction
I'd ever known.


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