One – Returning Hunger

The belly, of course,
is a room. It unsettles,
silently, as if a water bird
just dove beneath its surface.
Inhospitable combinations
of gas fill the alien
chamber and challenge
to bellow out like
yoked in oxen. Our bodies
make captive what they can,
spin amongst what they must.
The imagination cannot
be contended with. Please,
place in my hand a potato chip.
The bird is always threatening
to suddenly reappear.


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