Pot au Fou
April 06, 2014
Scavenging the cupboards
for something to make
sense of this hunger, growing
consuming me
Nothing is appealing
in the boxes and cans
lined liked soldiers
Sent to witness
the hanging
thread of my life
Easier to crawl
bare and bleeding
into another’s kitchen
hoping to be fed
There they are
making a thin soup
of grueling expectations
the Menu reads
Eat and eat until there is no more room
to breathe a sigh of relief
We will leave you
full with aching hunger
until you gnaw pitted porous bone and suck the marrow out of your dreams
I place my order of things
on the table.
Served Just Desserts, on the house
For days
I carry out
the smell of old grease and searing flesh
It saturates my skin
like regret
1 comments
Yes, hunger does make you go dark.
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