Hanging Weight

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?

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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20 Responses to Hanging Weight

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Fucking love it.

  2. They’re never satisfied …

  3. You had me at “hungry,”
    but then you grabbed me a “bones.”
    Ditto to Trent’s fucking lovin’!

  4. BroadBlogs says:

    A relationship that is sapping rather than feeding, eh. Oh, the need to leave those.

  5. 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..

  6. nelle says:

    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.

  7. Susan, that tag you gave this–objectification–says it all. Well-penned in few words.

  8. unfetteredbs says:

    Triple what Trent said. Lordy you nailed such a powerful punch in so few lines!

  9. mobius faith says:

    poetic protein.

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