This comes from the collection SERIOUSLY SPEAKING, the last collection I was working on until I hit an almighty writer's block. Enjoy :-)
The Hunger Strike
sitting alone,
with clenched fist
on chisel cheek,
glaring gamely
into the distance.
wondering:
if last month’s
midnight snack
tasted half as good
as you screamed,
why didn’t i see you again?
Nana, you really ought not to be having midnight snacks.
ReplyDeleteI think I know who you are, Anon. I was just wondering if you have given consideration not only to the poem, but also the title.
ReplyDeleteMaybe she faked the scream
ReplyDeleteYou meano, Kiz, that escaped me, and, somehow, ignorance was bliss! :-(
ReplyDeleteyou know for a minute i wondered why i was thinking about a different kind of hunger(left me thinking i had a one track mind) im am obviously not the only one though ,(i see).
ReplyDeleteBentuma, all hunger's the same.
ReplyDeleteProbably she had food from somewhere which taste more than yours. Increase your ingredents and she will come back for more.
ReplyDeleteVery funny, MK. And just how many "ingredients" would you put in a midnight snack like that? :-)
ReplyDelete