by Melissa Broder
Wild man is the same as me
starved into fractions.
We all are, the whole colony
raised on antennae
sugar cane screenshots
But I have a jaw that seeks chunks
and he has the heart of a fat man.
In his cabin we drink vapor gravy
snarf dust fowl, sediment meats.
Nothing is enough
he hangs me from the bunks
then slaps my growling stomach
until I spew static
making space for ash fish
and elemental octopi.
I find a thighbone in his mattress
and think of friends gone missing.
I hear my human heart beat
and wonder why he has utensils.
When he cooks a real live cassoulet
flesh and oil, no hoax
I turn my face from the tray
and put my fingers in his mouth.
Last updated April 03, 2023