Poetry Month Celebration Day 7

So, that poem about white whine I didn’t write yesterday. I wrote it today. It must suck to be so afraid of losing your privilege that you will deny it to the bitter end, lashing out at everyone who dares remind you.

Preemptive Strike

My hunger invades
stealing your pain
and making it my own
mining the dusty depths
of your history
for the precious ore
of my absolution

My hunger invades
it drives me to drive you
away and down
forcing me to remind you
not to remind me
who and what I am
a thought crime
that will not be forgiven

My hunger invades
it occupies every space
setting curfews
and convenient rules of engagement
it guns you down
when you step out of line
and lets me cross those boundaries
with impunity

My hunger invades
salting the earth
of your tormented soul
leaving you know soil to grow in
no hope
no future
no rest

My hunger invades
asking for papers please
to prove you really are
what you say you are
and of course I have
every detail of my life
ready for you to inspect
to validate
to prove I am what I say
because context doesn’t matter

My hunger invades
because it must
because I must never not eat


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