May 9, 1969 (I was 24)
Miners climb out of the mouth of the earth.
They practice earth dentistry, extracting iron teeth.
It’s a messy job at best, and their boots
are blood-stained. If they keep at it and don’t
get swallowed, they eventually gain recognition.
They have a slick monthly journal, The Hanna Miner.
After twenty years a 1” x 1 1/2” black and white
photograph. After thirty years a 2” x 3” (wallet size).
After forty years a 5” x 7” colored
(I suppose you could frame it).
It is however, discouraging to see
how they let their own teeth go,
pictured there next to the superintendent
with his monthly million-dollar smile.
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