His Hunger
You must have been hungry,
the one drowsy evening, crickets
silenced at your closeness.
You must have been able to
smell the casserole,
wrapped in an orange bottle
in the old woman's bathroom cabinet,
desire same as thanksgiving dinner,
parents smacking your wrist
to wait for prayer
before you can
eat
You must have been hungry,
imagining the white potatoes
on the bedroom nightstand,
hands shaking— need calling
to crush them into
a powder,
breathe in the butter
of mashed potatoes.
You held your prayer loaded, heavy in your palm, as you broke open the door,
like a can of biscuits, threatened to spill the old woman’s red cranberry
sauce into floorboards if she didn’t feed you what you wanted. While you
rummaged through her pantry, taking ingredients used to keep her alive, she
called the police on you— taking away the kids you left at home with
strangers that destroy futures. But you knew about that. No one cried when
you got arrested. You were hungry. They hold their prayers to your head,
hoping to pull the trigger someday.
Daycare in the Closet
I search for light in the eye
in her that put me away.
Though, I do not understand why
you lock me in the padded closet, keep me from the sky—
Heat from the static tv, a breathing bane.
I search for light in the eye.
A Blue Bear, Purple Pegasus, and Hanging Jackets I personify.
The repeating of Mickey Mouse VHS tapes is my chain,
Though, I do not understand why.
Mother, let me out— Long hours go by—
I struggle to myself, am I just a stain?
I search for light in the eye.
The door opens and I’m about to cry.
My favorite color, sky blue, but instead I find rain,
Though, I do not understand why.
I was once a Monarch Butterfly.
Mother, why end my reign?
I search for light in the eye,
Though, I do not understand why.