Hungry Ghosts Poem by Adryan Barnathan

We are Hungry Ghosts
of the poetry world
feeding off of
carefully picked words
never seeming to eat enough
to satiate our appetites,
discriminately browsing
to discover
the most delectable
predators
whose carcass morsels
taste most divine
on the tongue
than any other
feast we've eaten
but hunger
never seems to wane
and doesn't fill
the space within
our wondering souls
left to exist
on other ghostly banquets
that we attend
in thin veils
of dust and vapour
where, at every table
we meet
professional diners
who write
editorials on what
they've consumed
of blood, bone and marrow
some have even taken up
following earthbound cats
to lead them down
some meaty paths
where stuffing filled vocabulary
and pate' imagery
temporarily fill
a void-
then back again
for another serve
of verse
too rhymed
it tastes of slime
and so, we throw
that one away-
to hunt another.


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