HUNGER. by Wolf Kevin Martin

I

will 

eat 

you too

surviving 

gnawing 

bones 

and glass

spitting 

out gristle 

even the griss 

in front 

of me 

can be 

regurgitated

repeated again 

until satisfied

reminding me

I have no money

or fancy clothes 

yet

I

am 

rumbly 

tumbly 

bones

crashing 

breaking 

waves

moonshine 

your 

mind

prefers 

heart beats

complexity 

I could never 

afford

I

will take 

what I 

can get 

or left

with 

no difference between

no need to worry 

about the fairytale 

 I remember 

the old man 

rummaging 

behind the bar 

where I worked

he was in the alley

between us and heaven 

he was looking for hell

he was old

ornery

checking 

empty 

beer 

bottles 

and 

liquor bottles 

scarce scant amounts evaporates 

bottles of different colors and sizes stacked neatly outside 

same cartons 

that were delivered

last week

now filled with skulls

10 cents

a piece 

waiting to be cashed in

dutifully on return

I 

was taking out the trash

walking out the back door

heard the explosions like gunfire

instead of putting the bottles 

back neatly,he was smashing 

the ones

that were completely empty

muttering to himself

why straighten up now?

putting back the bottles that had 

an unswigged corner

after reswigging

backwash and strangers kindness courtesy or neglect 

are the same illusion 

in the night 

he broke 285 bottles out of 350

we were both thinking 

about dreams 

both

realizing 

the same 

thing 

at a 

young age

I

still 

cherish 

that 

Wasted 

Time and 

Prayers

no one here owes 

You 

A

Mother 

Fucking 

Thing!

I 

could of stopped him

from

breaking bottles 

it was an act 

out of 

my 

paygrade and above my morality god stood

still

didn’t want 

to steal 

joy 

he had left 

I did get paid 

cash

to

sweep up

collateral damage 

less confrontational

always

buy 

you 

a drink 

if I knew 

that it 

would 

change 

the world

I 

can assure 

with 100%

certainty 

I

would drink 

it myself

longing 

for 

your 

noose 

I await 

your stubborn 

American 

ways

Wolf, Kevin Martin, is from North Carolina and a regular contributor to the Arrival Magazine in Winston Salem, NC.  Amateur photographer and poet.