We Hunger Artists
The hunger artist,
he claims there is beauty
in his art.
That in his caved flesh,
there is synechdoche.
In his callow bones,
there is ryhme and rythym
that we all miss.
Can you see
the art of his hunger?
II
One more bite,
stuffed,
she craves for a sate.
From her bloated face
there is reason,
that in her heavy state
there is sense.
One more bite
will force it down,
and wine
will wash it--
make it drown.
III
Smoke rings fill the air,
eyes glazed to the sky.
A pit hole within,
where a surgeon can't touch;
craving for something
to fill my soul.
The essence of art
is selection.
One last drag,
looking for what
will make me
whole.
