I will not sniff for scraps

Though you may give them me. Though you may give them
Me, I have a lot to give and give I will and take I must, I will
Not sniff for scraps though you may think me hungry, and you
May think me thin, for you may see my bones through skin
For you may think me weak and hungry. I will not
Take what you don’t want. For I have sat, just once,

Right at the table.

I said my grace and I thanked your God and
Laid my napkin gently on my lap, never reaching,
Always passing the salt, and why thank you please a mouthful more, and
Why this is delicious. So humble as the grease was shining my lip at last.
Delicate. Polite. Never the glutton or the clown.

But only once.

So now, now that I see how fat you have become
How fat, and fat and satisfied with you, your self, how lazy,
Slovenly and rudely layered with yourself, the white lard
Of your body waiting only for your bread and wine – how dare you
Leave me with the gristle and the bone, the oil of the plate,
The scum on your glass, I will not sniff for scraps, for
Though you may give them me. Though you may give them
Me, I have a lot to give and give I will and take I must, I will
Not sniff for scraps, though you may think me hungry for

I have come to eat you.

Published
Categorized as musing

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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