filling my belly
with little bits and trifles
of subjective ideas
until the emptiness no longer hungers
for literature
or growls for eggs
I've found that if you swallow zestfully
words transform themselves
into a wholesome meal,
nourishing all bodily necessities
without the fatty intake
of an oppressive binge,
like a vitamin
poetry works it's language
from within
feeding our appetites
a perfectly fruitful morning breakfast
