3rd Place

The cafeteria smelled of beef stew, marijuana
one hundred sour mouths of unbrushed teeth
the sweat of fear
the sweat of sex
soaked into unchanged clothes
the scent of organic gas–
bacteria breaking fiber
eating urine and blood.

When a man with blond curls
dreading into ropes
fell to the tile like
a backpack of empty bottles,
hope smoldering like the last drag on a cigarette,
foul words pouring out like vomit,
a buddy pulled him onto a chair
and with hands encrusted in dirt
fingerprints packed smooth,
he filled a spoon
lifted it to his street brother’s lips
and nourished him.

Have you ever seen something so holy?