Tuesday, June 23, 2009

The rising smoke from the burnt milk
Wafting circling wafting up
Scum on the stove Smells of hunger
Wafting circling wafting up
The charred pan desire stained,
Stare hard at the red red flesh,
The blackened milk holds me back,
Bound and tied in a hunger mesh,
And
Oh the child wails and wails
And oh the child wails so loud
What shall be fed
To the wailing child
For the child who wails
Child has to be fed
The burnt dry blood
The burnt dry milk
For the endless hunger
The red black milk
The black red blood.

concentric spirals

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