I am hungry, but too tired
to exert myself in the search for sustenance
I can starve myself to be symbolic, I think, while secretly
thinking, food
would be really good to have, yet sleep
would be fabulous, then my stomach protests
you are never good to me, oh no
oh no, you are far too spoilt
what with chocolate in the evening, recall?
and some random fruit for health
still you have grabbed at my abdomen
quite inconsiderately, I felt
the wrench of your complaining, did you
need to groan so low? don't you know my aching back is creaking
don't you see my eyes are glazed and burning
my spine is a sine curve, still reeling
from all those years of calculus carrying
so that I am still spited by those schooltexts
doomed to bend double long after working
and my dark circles are smarting
but you swear you are internally collapsing
(and I feel it too, my ribs meet my navel)
so I will fight my soporific fantasy
tear myself slowly from my comforting stasis
to put something, anything substantial, in you
so you can shut (up)
and I can go sleep.
-----
View/download "The hungry mania" poem