... addiction ..., ... Applachia ..., ... country ..., ... experimental ..., ... God ..., ... life ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... religion ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

pierce me? but i’m hungry.

it was a miracle
when five thousand or
more ate with twelve
baskets left over.

if only it’d been
twelve billion.

but there are so many
Galaxies to
attend to.

you know what you do-

in the way you

walk,

hum,

breathe,

acquiesce.

you cast hope to
the hopeless,
without the
understanding
that they
don’t need hope.

they need bread.

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