wooden grate set in the floor of the lower deck of a Victorian ship 

My lips have formed 

Around your name so often 

It is now etched in stone

Cold, hard, a chalky bone

Still, I feel compelled to eat it

Chewing, tasting, contemplating

Pica, my sinister symptom

Of something so much more

Your bitter exoskeleton crunches

Destined to become a bezoar  

My punishment for love again

Unrequited and unholy

Lifeless and alone

Swallowing hard, down the hatch

A parched tongue, saliva gone 

Devoid of food or nourishment

The hunger left unquenched

Renders it all to only mastication


65 thoughts on “Masticate

  1. Hey Victo,

    A dry old bone snatched from the pica’s larder and briefly gormandised. Wonderfully conceived and articulated, with just enough edge of darkly to make it a meal hard to swallow.

    Bezoar is a new word for me given context and understanding through your erudite poetry. Superb. Thank you.

    Hoping all is well. Have a great weekend πŸ™‚

    DN – 05/09/2015

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My vocabulary is decent and I had to go to the dictionary twice in this short poem – well done Victo! To start, the poem draws in the reader so that s/he can taste the chalky inedible substance that is supposed to be food. The striking lack of any value or nutrition is blatant. As humans all our needs – love, humor, respect,value, desires, sexuality, intellect, etc – can be said to be “fed”. Somehow the concept of “feeding” applies across all needs -an intriguing commentary on something fundamental that is a part of the sanctification and fulfillment of all needs. The ultimate or epitome of feeding is the giving or creation of love. Feeding a relationship, feeding an “us”, feeding a peace, feeding fulfillment, feeding completion, feeding desire.

    You peeled back eating to become feeding and then skillfully melted it and allowed it to flow across the metaphoric equivalents, soaking into the very soul of life.

    Well done Visto

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Ooo – tasty and dark!!! Seen a couple of bezoars, probably the most disgusting things I have ever seen removed from someone’s abdomen (think most massive hairballs ever), oh besides a few enormous teratomas. Great poem!!!!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Everyone puts a bit of their reality into a poem – even just a little bit. and the poem leaves me with the feeling of either meeting and old love that went horribly wrong or meeting a new love that has all the potential for disaster.. Another life story!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. You switch venues so effortlessly. I have to admit I had to lookup several words, which is always cool. I like learning new words and then using them in a sentence. ” My cat presented me with a huge bezoar…… lololol…..

    Liked by 1 person

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