Saturday, December 10, 2016

Magdalena Ball #26: Profligate


Don’t talk to me about hunger
I would have tamped that
years ago if I could
the irony of it
the indignity

the lack of control
above all, the desire
letting go to dissipation
a sweetness collective
a death wish

the scent is familiar
lingering on the air, from history
an inheritance

it rears its head at the shopping centre
artificial needs splattered
on posters everywhere
in the car park
evil eye for the spot
fever for a false bargain
eating constantly
working the jaw
in exponential bites
bins overflowing from
what cannot be digested

don’t walk over the bridge
though I know we share
these flaws, I know

I came to satisfy my appetite
self-disgust is a hunger in itself

what’s the real emptiness
that needs filling
the ghost psyche that howls out
for more

at the first hour of dawn
before the barrage of white noise
and a growling stomach
before the self comes in raging
there is earthly calm
the softness of loam

somewhere in this peace
that will end, shortly
for all of us
is an answer.

photo credit: NASA on The Commons Galileo Earth via photopin (license)

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