Wool Poem IV | Joan Colby
They wear those long-johns
All winter. Imagine the stink,
How their wives must shudder.
The reek of barnyard, of sweat
Dried stiff as a stallion’s cock.
The beard scraped to scratch the way
A union suit flays them rough beneath
Overalls and flannel. Let blizzards
Come, the wives fly off
The handle. They are ready.