Full From Grace and Hungry Still
I Confess –
It Was the Ravens.
That I had Been Lunching on.
And Were to Blame.
For My Billowing Frame.
Not The Whiskey.
Nor the Bagels. The Many Cheeses.
Not the Beer.
No. Lord, No.
– The Ravens.
I had Taken to Snatch them in the Morn.’
Where they too Indulged – Greedy in the Fields.
And, Now, Rustled ‘neath the Linens. &.
Squirmed ‘Gainst My Belt, Reluctant.
Cawing, Humbly from
Just Past my many Buttons.
For I had Heard that they Had Been Angels. Once.
Into a Million small, molting Bodies.
So – I Thought to Eat Them.
Hungry for Grace Was I!
Coughing in Protest from the Ground
I Still Take to Each Heavy. Step.
In Pursuit of Flight
And Wake to Run Where Love will Find me.
/Will Hear the Flutters.
/Will Rush to Aide.
And Then One Day.