I know boys that have smoked for seven years
and quit for a year
and they're not even twenty.

I know boys that eat
sandwiches
with black hands
black from motor oil and tar
and shower four times a day.

I know boys, I love boys
that can fix cars, milk cows,
get up at six and drive two hours
to work
with three hours sleep
still drunk from the night before
and never puke.

I breathe boys that smell of slurry,
silage, and turf fires
that shout
things about tractors that I can't understand.
Smoke joints at 8AM before work
and reckon they work harder for it.

I love FÁS boys.
Untrained boys,
rough and ready, picked at the seam boys,
home boys, lover boys, my boys,
curse like a sailor and hand on my thigh boys.

"You should stop picking men
based on their ability
to open beer bottles with their teeth"
said Mam. But I love those boys,
those earthy boys,
those make me feel alive boys.