Resident Vapor

I have to eat the meal, the plate, silverware, the table

or it all will be gone

never offered again

I hate

like a man

who would level cities

I feel the wood burning beneath my feet

While I am tied to a stake

Sentenced to burn

My family and neighbors cheering

It’s because of the ghost

That enters my mouth

Causing me to see gathering clouds as evil portent

But it is only the tale of a thousand damned souls

being whispered in my ear

It sounds like my own death foretold

When my woeful ghost departs,

I become  giddy,

declaring myself Empress

Then back

to thoughts of sore starvation.

My mouth is a chasm.

I fill it and fill it

Still the hungry ghost rages,

behind the prison bars of my ribs,

suffering the random shocks from my heart.

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