You are hungry
for more than meat
though your eyes weigh
how well I will feed you.
When I am bones in your pot
will you finally be satisfied?
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Susan Daniels Poetry 
Fucking love it.
Thanks, Trent!
No probs, have just shards of time to scan what people are doing, that caught my eye. Well done.
They’re never satisfied …
Nope.
😉
You had me at “hungry,”
but then you grabbed me a “bones.”
Ditto to Trent’s fucking lovin’!
Thanks, JCC. We share a love of bones in stewpots, I think 😉
A relationship that is sapping rather than feeding, eh. Oh, the need to leave those.
Yes, those are the ones that need to be left.
A freudian reading comes in handy whenever a poem leaves me flatfooted as this one has. So here goes my “Freud unchained”! – This poem is not about food. I suspect an obsession with weight by the partner, an association by the partner of a certain type of body shape with imagined ability to satisfy his craving (a fetish) and a protest by the female – victim, object to be “eaten” etc as she sees that what the partner feels is not love but an obsession..
Ooo–I like your take on this. All reads/interpretations are valid, and yours is fascinating.
Whew, I was fearful of something literally macabre! Well done.
Thanks, Nelle. This came out of figuring out if I want a steer this fall from my CSA. You pay by hanging weight, which led to this. Can’t do it. Can’t eat a critter whose ears I have scratched. Probably means I shouldn’t eat ANY critters, if I feel that way.
Susan, that tag you gave this–objectification–says it all. Well-penned in few words.
Thank you, Victoria! Some things can be said in a few words, and this one had to stay skeletal, like the bones in the pot.
Triple what Trent said. Lordy you nailed such a powerful punch in so few lines!
Aw, Audra, thank you!
poetic protein.
Yep!