Best Stomachs Poems

Villanelle: Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs

Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs
We drag our ego thrones saddled on stooping lean backs
Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks

None can bear the thought shrunken image left on...

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“We have no milk,”
you speak quietly
in a tone reminiscent 
of another’s observation
that wine had run out
at a wedding feast.
Miraculous transformation
of wine or milk
from pitchers of water
seemingly absent from
the church job description
of educator and
director of parish music,
a deficit, in proportion
to the yearly salary of
nine thousand dollars...

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The eyes were constantly searching,
Searching for the food to quench the appetite.
But the stony passers were ignoring
the hungry mouths, imagining of a bite.

Poverty has become an antagonist,
In the story of starved stomachs.
Each character and himself the protagonist
Just thinks and their thumbs they sucks.

The eyes shed...

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