How hungry next time?

This crazy place where gold sits in plain view beside an ideal

And a hungry man steals the ideal

Makes from it a simple piece and wears it proudly in the streets

For everyone to admire.


How hungry must he be to let gold hang from someone else’s neck

To leave it on the field

To let it gild marble walls and lofty altars

And languish in vaults?


How hungry to toss together rickety foundations of refuse

And mounting them, raise a naked fist

To a smiling sky

That showers golden stardust on the sated

And leaves the famished to die?


How hungry must he be, next time walls fall

To leave gold to the rubble

And build something of value

Beneath the smiling sky?


Jason Anderson, 2014



The sun gathers in wrinkles on late afternoon sheets

Breeze-scattered energy highlights an intemperate body

A cat grudges to recover a beam


I am not whole nor was I meant

What is not burns for all that is

And spins in the vacuous intermission


This room won’t be sun-filled nor cleared by a wind

Cat and I shift uneasily on empty sheets

One ravenous for flesh

The other stalking an eternal sunbeam


By Jason Anderson



But why does the cat always have to be on my side of the bed?

Rest between the rains

Light rain on Canada Pond, RI USA

Photo: author


Sometimes, after midnight and before dawn

The horizon blanks and I can see everything


Sometimes, in the rest between the rains

The world pauses and I can hear everything


Sometimes, on a pillow of skin and coarse hair

A heartbeat beckons and I can feel everything


Sometimes, as winter wood burns wet

Smoke sears, acrid, and I can smell everything


Never have I tasted enough, and I never will.


©2013 Jason Anderson