a squirrel
startles me
posing
for a portrait
of a beggar
for a morsel
of love
what it means
in the vast
scheme of things
i try
to contemplate
but the
sliver moon's
crevices
beckon...
Negligible morsel of biomass
my fat belly, formerly abs
insignificant yet it occupies me
hourly while bored or hungry.
Fat is what? a picture
of despair, giving up caring
or man out of balance, other
side of the world's starving
mass, case of the soul's malnutrition
industrial agriculture, television
supermarkets, vacations, hydrocarbons
and the grid. Electricity, urban
traffic jams, photons at final
rest. Sugars synthesized, abundant
plastics to carry them home in.
Into your house and into your mirror.
Memorizing the periodic table
and learning the calculus makes one
no thinner. Walking the mountain
in heat and cold and rain, alone
or in fire crews should inhibit.
And a healthy fear of death. A laugh
a day at sex and pain and fate
which renews the biomass I hate.
In the womb of warmth
Nine months sleeping
Till Pain woke me up
Fear brought me up
Through cloudy days and burning nights
I sang lone song of woe
Of the sun and of the moon
Letting a long winter
Stretch
Of the wind and of the heat
Hurling
A handful of stones
Yes
Stones, stones, stones
I had asked for bread
buzzing bumblebee
fat wit sweet summer nectar
the lizards head swells
The obsolete beast of prey
Out of the bogs and mists,
Is leaving his prints in the clay,
Proving that he exists.
A “mythical beast” indeed!
Fasten your portals tight--
The silver-scaled snake will feed
Somewhere on someone tonight.
Poetry is
That morsel
Of bread
Giving us
Sustenance, clarity and
Resonance
For expressing and sustaining
Humanity
Time is that
Morsel of bread
That we need
To give us nourishment
We hunger for time