I’m a slob.
A peaceful man.
I leave a trail
of destruction wherever I eat.
Crumbs, half chewed food,
it’s never enough.
I can’t keep
all my food in my mouth.
It takes a lot to feed me.
Invisible farms, feed lots, factories
lots of people without enough food
that I might eat this world.
Larger mouthfuls I can’t imagine.
But between the fork and the teeth,
some of it just won’t stay
in my mouth.
In a world of hunger, please
understand, this is a metaphor
for hunger for life. You and me.
We all want to live.
I’d understand
if given the best food,
an endless buffet,
you’d eat without concern,
abandon all cares,
about keeping all that food
In your mouth.
Let me tell you
the buffet exists.
It’s feeding those
who’ve never known hunger.
Mom on deck
Call for Mom.
She’s needed on deck;
no one else will do.
Who could possibly replace her?
Santa Claus or God?
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