Hi Tim, this is such a powerful poem.  It so eloquently represents in poetic form, like a distillation an essence of a scene or scenes or emotions of deeply felt anger and resolve.   
You have a style of line breaks that seems to me to be a more visual way of presentation, than logical.  It isn't a negative just a preference you have for this manner of presentation, for me it is irritating but I am certain it isn't anything more than my preferences and I can get over my bias pretty easily since I know that I prefer a speaking style of presentation. 

The only part of the poem that doesn't flow for me is here:

"That bargain works like this: 1. I will always find my way

home after the witching hour. 2. the porch light will be on,
even if I work late and the morning, settling
into its own cups of coffee, ignores me as I pass.
3. When I get home, nothing in our bedroom will have changed.

Your feet will still be cold, yet rub mine with welcome.
I will need to struggle, endlessly, to get enough
sheets, and our kids, knowing where the cereal is kept,
can start their day without me.  "

My suggestion is this: 
The bargain works like this, I will always find my way
home after the witching hour.  The porch light will be on for me,
even if I work late and the morning, settling
into its own cups of coffee, ignores me as I pass.

When I get home, nothing in our bedroom will have changed.
Your feet will still be cold, yet rub mine with welcome.
Even though I will need to struggle, endlessly, to get enough
sheets, and our kids, knowing where the cereal is kept,
can start their day without me.   


Overall I think that this is a beautiful poem and it was a pleasure to read, re-read, and taste my tongue as the words flowed.  Joe



1. Father
When a mastiff fixes its maw around a bone, before
the trap sinks, before the gnawing, the unbearable
slather of saliva-like sweat is what I
wake to, alone. Unable to counter the lock on my spine,

night transfixes me to my bed. Each breath
releases, until I rise into the illusion of that something
only night brings. For my father, it was a simple game
played in casinos, un-hinged by

wins or losses: he'd rub each card like a charm;
nothing else could fill the space between
his knuckles, when he felt the urge to bend or fold. The trick,
he'd say, is to focus on the players and never

let your hands become too predictable. For twelve hours
at a time, he'd sit and watch life rotate around his chair,
between cups of coffee, the others drifting pass, divorced
from his table with little curses and no goodbyes.



2. Son
Two sheriffs came late in the morning, their sharp knock
a departure. Monday, I dressed with all I could grab 
into a duffle bag, three minutes packed into a lifetime. You left
and took the girls to your mom's, days ago. I phoned   
yesterday to say that our neighbor, Jack, passed
away in his garden. His son,
who appeared weekly to till the sour ground, uproot
tiny egg plants only to leave them   

on our back door, called me over to offer the last
of Jack's tomatoes, fruit that sat for days in his bowl,
because it refused to ripen. Today, I took the last one
as I surrendered my house keys and walked out.


3. Spirit
If a lover work overnights, there is a bargain 
made every time he wakes up, dresses and walks
down the steps to whatever punch-clock awaits him.
That bargain works like this: 1. I will always find my way

home after the witching hour. 2. the porch light will be on,
even if I work late and the morning, settling
into its own cups of coffee, ignores me as I pass.
3. When I get home, nothing in our bedroom will have changed.

Your feet will still be cold, yet rub mine with welcome.
I will need to struggle, endlessly, to get enough
sheets, and our kids, knowing where the cereal is kept,
can start their day without me.

Hi nas,

Thank you for stopping in. "Others" is pluralized other; literally, players around a card table; but, by inference, that section is refering to his family (wife and son). The loss of family is the central theme. Or, like father like son. The garden was vivid when I lived next to "Jack", but it's also symbolic. If that's not playing through for you, then I'll think about it for a spell.

Overnight is a specific shift. One could work nights and be home by midnight, depending on the shift. The link here is the work chosen by the lover (again father and son, but also addresses relationships in general), gambler, waiter, truck driver, whatever.

You may be right about departure. Being thrown out of your house is not a departure with the same gut-wrenching effect. Let's consider that word a placemarker for the right one.

Thanks again. You've given me much to dwell on.


Namaste,
~Tim