That's Nuts

Poetic peanuts?

Cracking peanuts
The way my father did
Teeth on the tough tan shell
Getting peanut dust in my mouth
With a satisfying crunch
The top half floats to the linoleum
Meeting the grime, dust and hairs from our boots
My father and I.

Cracking peanuts
The way we did
Four halves sit, unreflective, in their separate compartments on the
Lifting and sharing
And tearing more shells with our teeth
My father and I
Smelling the sweet earthly smell
As the shell strings tear and unravel
The way life does sometimes.
Dust lines the linoleum
My father and

The End

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