“Hunger, I Do Not Know Thee”

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A little tummy rumbles,
I had hot dogs yesterday,
A balogna sandwich the day before,
Ooooo they were good,
Could sure go for even a slice of balogna,
Salty slices of hog’s noses and racoon’s assholes,
As my dad would laughingly say,
“Dinner is coming, go out and play”
Said a beleaguered young woman,
Stew,
Chuck beef,
Bay leaf,
Simmering in that burn’t granite ware pot,
I hadn’t eaten since yesterday,
“You’re not hungry, just go out and play”,
My little legs took me only so far,
Before the smell of ripe crab apples,
Caught my attention,
Hunger sated for a sweet moment,
My belly is full of sour crab apples,
That the yard birds are drunk off of,
I woke up in a grass field,
Sun setting behind tall trees,
Hands cold and covered in evening dew,
A young woman’s voice hollering through cedars,
“Diiiiiinnnnner!”
That word carries on savory notes of beef stew,
Risen biscuits,
Hunger,
Tonight I do not know thee.

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