Unintentional Hunger Strike
#1
I'm giving myself 14 minutes to jot this down
because my hands are wrecked and
I'm butt-hurt over the shittiness that is my canvas spread.
I lost my kneaded eraser to a fight with memory--
It's probably stuck in some crevice... a blanket the same hue
But I shook it out over my head with malice
I felt like Willem Dafoe in another Duffy film;
STARK FUCKING MAD.
Even the inanimate have more sense than me,
crawling into bed before dawn.

All I want?
To dig my canines
into a slab of your juiciest meat.
I'll be there in a minute.
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#2
A fat poem compared to your (caveat: bad metaphor comin') usual brilliant shortcuts.

Nothing to fix.

serge
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#3
Thanks Serge! Weeoh. This was actually written in 14 minutes. With some internet surfing.
I'll be there in a minute.
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#4
don't give this info away. I want this poem to stay here, so no aside talking. ;-)

I must add two things (strictly on the poem):
Title is a killer
and posting it at Poetry for fun is simply outstanding ( I mean


: fucking funny) ;-)

And you know why (let's get biographical: I am just thru an unintentional hunger strike. I dig it now, because I lost weight (I am a younger me now) and it also sharpened my senses. To sum it up: It is great to be hungry.
Sorry, could not help it.

cheers
I'd buy your book. (Or, at least steal it)
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