Shawn Sturgeon
Hungry
The first time I went hungry
there was something rude about me,
the dinner cooled without me.
It was fitting to do nothing.
The second time I went hungry,
it seemed I had no money
I resolved to tell nobody;
the ceiling shook without me.
The third time I went hungry,
again I had no money,
I wondered, sell my body?
But no one came upon me.
The fourth time I went hungry,
it seemed I knew the story;
but the outcome was too boring,
and the outcome was too boring.
The fifth time I went hungry
something came undone inside me,
and the insides seemed too bloody—
I considered what would find me.
The sixth time I went hungry
was probably on a Tuesday,
I remember waking Monday.
That time I ate on Sunday.
The seventh time I went hungry,
I thought I heard her calling.
when I opened the door, nothing,
and the telephone, not wanting.
The eighth time I went hungry,
who cared if I had around me
still words that could be burning.
I reread my only earnings.
The ninth time I went hungry,
I waited on the street for something,
and the cars and buses passed me,
and wealth was for the asking.
The tenth time I went hungry,
I said, how much man does the land need?
And the land opened up before me,
and what space was left was for me.
from Either/Ur, River City Publishing, 2002.