(Sculpture by Kenneth Treister at the Miami Holocaust Memorial.)
Time On Its Side
Hunger crawls in a crooked line,
Hunger stalks from here, to there, to nowhere.
Hunger speaks in small mouths of rice.
Hunger counts backwards like a patient anesthetized.
Hunger growls regardless of its leash.
Hunger is a straw-empty cage of lies.
The lens of its stare ready to ignite,
Hunger sprawls patiently in the sun.
Hunger knows its whims, is terminal.
Hunger never asks, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
Hunger is sloppy, skin-taut and navel protruded
like a series of ellipses.
Hunger breaks no bones.
Hunger, nothing less than a corpse's masque,
is visible, lonely,
Consecrated with flies that hover like dirt angels
Praying over their victims.
And here no lilies smolder at the edges,
Putting on airs---
Hunger waits with time on its side.
– by Bro. Didacus R. Wilson, T.O.R.
(© copyright All Rights Reserved Wilson, Richard S.)
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