Meal
Monday, May 5th, 2008They feed me with hunger.
Too much salt, chased with just enough sugar
that my tastebuds rave and are sick
in the same thick instant.
Color and spiky sound wrestle on my tongue,
Trying not to be swallowed,
wanting to linger in their power
over the yawning mind, stretched
in fatigue and want,
despite itself.
When will I be full?
Bite by byte I gnosh and scarf
and comb my tongue, my brain
with its senses;
I stage plays with ASCII characters,
I play symphonies from system errors,
I paint and unpaint with Ctrl+Z.
Will I ever swallow my meal,
or will it swallow me?