Writers' Ink at Caledon Public Library

We Of The Full

to eat is everything

the bird that feeds its babies

water to cracked lips

a morsel of shared bread

to eat is everything

 

we of the full-plated

ravenous only for the latest wafer-thin

distractions of the modern world

think we know what hunger is

regard the pangs that tickle our guts

at three in the morning

(oh, poor Teletubby!)

as one of the colours of suffering

or, missing a meal, sense

the beast within stirring

in its irritation

and think we know pain

 

we of the full-bellied, the cyber-addicted

we know nothing of real hunger

whose beast is a moaning dragon

twisting under the skin

a black hole into which

the ache of need, the screams of despair

are disappeared by the desperate

government of the body

a seeping bag of boney sadness

watching the star-distant crumbs of civilization

moving ever farther away

 

to eat is everything

the bird that feeds its babies

water to cracked lips

a morsel of shared bread

to eat is everything

 

no, hunger isn’t what happens

when a stomach is deprived

of that third portion of beef tenderloin

hunger is a hamburger rotting in the sun-beaten dumpster

while children scavenge for scraps of hope in the trash heap

hunger senses the world more acutely

than smell, taste, touch, hearing, seeing can ever do

hunger runs its fingers across all of these

like a blind man feeling the braille-like surface

of a child’s face, fingers sensing the sadness

playing in its expression, measuring the depth

of the human spirit, its will to live,

to nourish the body it must steward

through this life

 

we of the varietal universe

that baits us with fame or money or sex

another bag of Cheezies

we do not know nor ever will

what the wide-eyed baby feels

when its mother’s breast is a galaxy emptied of stars

we do not know nor ever will

the cost of selfishness, of turning a blind eye

of watching the tiller of progress

turn into the soil the world’s emptiness

our emptiness, our void, our hope

 

to eat is everything

the bird that feeds its babies

water to cracked lips

a morsel of shared bread

to eat is everything

 

by Harry Posner

About Alton Chapter

The Alton Chapter of Writers' Ink meets the 1st Wednesday of the month from 6:30 to 8:30 pm at the Alton Branch.

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This entry was posted on January 17, 2017 by in Alton Chapter and tagged .

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