Eating


we are feeding today
on the bones of ancestors
and the wings of angels
we are feasting at the table
of guests
who have left the abode
drinking the wine of tears
shed for us
by those in the past
who saw the future
we are all forked
spooning out our love
cutting the bread of days
with a knife of impatience
we are grilling our eyes
with the sights of our world
tell the chef that the meal
is burning
please pass me the salt
that i may pour it into the wound
which also functions
as my mouth
djones 3/23/07