A Finicky Appetite
it’s there when nothing else is
but the radio and a near crippling sense of hopelessness
it climbs around on the walls and the ceiling
hissing like a poisonous lizard that demands to be fed
you cut the tips of your fingers and flick blood toward its
nasty
vicious little mouth
when that is not enough
you look in the fridge
praying to whatever god might give a shit
that there is a piece of leftover pizza
and in the cupboards for some bread
but anything you put on a plate is not enough
because it wants something fresh and warm
even your blood wasn’t enough
because what it really wants is your soul
so you scream
“here you go! take it all, you fucker!”
and it smiles
and says
“i already have.”
