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Nov 2012
we broke this whole idea into increments
and fed it to the birds in the park
as they flew around for a crumb of what it was
that we were feeding everyone else;
hunger for dinner.

now they're searching our eyes and our heads
for the answers to what there was once was
and where it's coming from
as we've already told them where we were
and where we're going.

there was nothing else left for them to eat
so they turned towards us and devoured
every morsel that was left of our being;
our souls were roasted
and eaten whole.

now we're emptied of anything well
and well enough, there's nothing here
to feed you but what i am
and i'm not sure that's even delectable;
you'll eat my hunger.
Sal Gelles
Written by
Sal Gelles  The road
(The road)   
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