Transformative Hunger

I have nothing I want and all I need
Chewing through life like a worm in feed
Whose hunger is unsubtle poetry.

Nameless things grow on suburban streets
Hearts pounding with wretched and wild beats
in poor imitations of language.

The scalpel cuts through fly-blown flesh
Removes one egg and leaves the rest;
some parasites hatch into sapphires.


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