Happy Joe
Joseph, is a war to eat?
They grow food, children, and stares; we owe
A choice nary, the other side of a heart to beat

Out, a house getting bigger...
Has moments for a man, to meet
Somebody in his shade, a quiet trigger...
Ready to pick, you from history's heat

The house built, judges a shame
Panic, made a need's home, is a quiet fame
Shown how, we vie for names, no one samed
Without, us, hell is nothing but the sense of a game

Truth, spirits, and creation; we still owe
Being the cares of worth, are we to dread?
A host so obvious, looking for a world to know
Can a shadow of rests, become light overhead?

Hungry, for one more liberty?
Have an insight, it will avoid
The nature of silences patience; puberty?
Here is the right to owe, the other side of our choice...

Wet and cold, I stand

in front of the shop, looking --


at hot sandwiches.

There it is again, I feel the pull towards you.
I know that I shouldn't but sometimes I cant but help to.

Each time we now meet, time seems to flow quicker and quicker.
If only we could return to when times were simpler.

I feel a pull towards the deep, I cannot breathe, I cannot sleep.
Am I lost or am I broken, just throw me on the trash heap.

Both of us struggling to hold onto to what we wanted to find,
So much so, we've become perfectly misaligned.

These thoughts, these feelings, they are many and they are vast.
I wonder if this poem will be my last?

Mama,
the weather outside
speaks hunger.

The air whispers
in chipped syllables,
cradling my bloated stomach,
muffling the laughter
emerging from K street.

Pine trees, brittled
by their barren limbs,
hum to me their
creaking lullabies.

I've seen the sun,
cheeks fat with food,
spit golden scraps
I was never
entitled to.

Perhaps the air
can carry me
through the winter.
Perhaps then
I can finally
dream of feasts.

It tasted good
So many flavors
I truly enjoyed it
I enjoyed food

I loved it until I thought of my body
Then my stomach lurched
It coiled and warped
My hunger retreating
After only two bites
I couldn’t force any more down

I hated the feeling
I hated that I couldn’t do it
I hated the food

But what I hated most
Was my brain
For forcing me to think like this
I did it subconsciously
Not on purpose
Never on purpose

It was all my brain

Hunger growls, and I listen.
I will be the one that lasts.
Out of sight, no sound given.
You will be the one I catch.

Wind howls; I am missing.
Sky is watching my advance.
Muscles tighten, knees stiffen.
Nightly creatures all in trance.

Screams muffled, blurry vision.
Searing pain — you collapse,
Giving in to intuition.
Knife digging deep and fast.

Two are one in coalition.
Hunger finally satisfied.