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Hungry 34

I trace the spoon across my wrist. The cool graze gives lightning undulations.

My tongue draws cooling corrosive baths for phantom food; sent by yearning eyes to digest air.

My shame is warm and heavy.It stitches me to the groundnever to blow away

or to rise.

And so I keep the spoon gliding back and forth. Sanding skin. Patience…

1- Anstey on June 7 2007

I'm curious what the title means?
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  • stephan

2- Pags on June 7 2007

I like the sense of waiting and intrigue in this one. The word 'shame' raises questions that make the reader work after the poem is finished. The title and that one word make me believe the poem is about anorexia. (And the phrase 'stitches me to the ground' makes me think you may be a poet I know from a different context!)

One nit. I dislike the word 'never'. It seems superfluous in context too. I would want a word that works harder for its living - maybe 'unable'. Having said that I find the rest of the poem excellent, and the use of line breaks and space (eg befor the word 'or' masterly. 

5- Anstey on June 7 2007

That's a fascinating way to title a piece.
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  • stephan

6- Anstey on June 7 2007

My tongue and
palate secrete enzymes
That line sticks out a bit, and I don't really think in a good way. The language of it doesn't fit with the rest of the piece, and it actually distracted me. 
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  • stephan

7- White_Feather on June 7 2007

Ah . . . yes.  I recognize this feeling!  It totally works for either eating disorder.  Shame and food.  Yuck.  I agree that the line "tongue and palate secrete enzymes" is awkward (and the scientist in me which lacks a sense of poetic license says, "it's not the tongue . . . it's the Ebner gland").  ((Please don't use Ebner gland in a poem!!!))  I also wonder about the spoon "sanding" skin . . . do spoons sand?  Or is that an intentional phrase.  All in all, I really like this poem.