by Nevs Coleman

Hunger Artist

Behind my bars

I watch you.

First with desire, then contempt

Then sympathy

I watch your put upon empathy

As you look sorry for me

Disrobed, Disarmed

But away, finally away from the tropes of fashion

Of psychic pollution

Of disdain for

Physical perceived distraction

I have no nutrition

But I am blessed with fresh perception.

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