GOD OF STARVATION
The iron and rolling pin
press me paper-thin.
I'm almost a millimeter
of cotton string.
Almost liquid,
almost a leak.
Permission to worship
glorious transparencies.
I'm in love with the ant and skink,
animals that hunt the ground.
The shrimp and oyster call my name,
mud and oil in their mouths.
I'm forbidden to writhe or crawl.
Forbidden to put pig flesh in my mouth.
Must throw lobsters back.
When I'm thin, thinner than water,
not even God recognizes me.
But oh, the page,
the string, the sea.
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