Odyssey of Hunger
Flesh of my Flesh Son of Saturn
Under the afternoon
sun the altar can be
wherever you kneel. You ply yourself before
the August heat
starved mouth-open tongue-swollen
like a calf to the harvest of cornflowers,
like a worm to the rot of the swamp.
God prefers the hungry because we are
the only creatures that kill to kill yet you ran
from the dry earth of slaughter as
fast as your father fled from faith.
It is summer after all and you can
eat every lover you held but you cannot
run from what you are
the same way you
cannot forget your
hunger. So you
stand in the dry crops of the land
to gut the belly of fate
and glut yourself on the skins of your
sons because you are
devoted to tragedy
you are devoted to
your bloodcurse.
The same way your mother was
devoted to redeem you
when she sold all her gold for
your manhood. Look at you now,
what a shame of a man you have become
sated mouth-closed tongue-sunken
You have become what you
have always wanted
to be; the all devourer,
destroyer of
the sun.
By Mimi Evangeline
Biography:
Meriem Evangeline is a Greek-Tunisian Mediterranean writer and editor for Dune Magazine. She is is currently undertaking her Honours in Creative Writing and working to publish her debut poetry collection titled Tenderness has Teeth.
No comments:
Post a Comment