Page 59 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #5
P. 59
Homo Digestivus
Oh look! It’s rain again.
How delicious for the plants. Delicious for me also
to not have to go outside.
I will lie here, the duvet smelling like me, lie in my own crumbs.
Now it has stopped,
but I know it will come again, the craving for biscuits,
and I will expose my white legs, the curlicue hairs trembling as I breeze
down the hall in my nudity, trying to outpace the heating bill by telling myself: “Brisk, refreshing” as though I enjoy how desperate I have become for a snack.
The rain is back! And I’m back, with packet, in bed
wondering who the first man was to get out of bed, if he was lonely or hungry, or tired of the weather, and whether he took comfort
in the familiarity of his body, scratched unthinkingly, heard voices in the gurgle
of the drain.
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