By Julie Flanders
Are you still as hungry
As your eyes
Eating everything in sight
But nothing fills
Or fulfills that wish
More empty
Than any dish
Floating
Like some forgotten satellite
Your orbit left un-right
And no one cares
No one stares any more
As you grab the railing
Or climb the stairs
As you watch your skin
Wrinkle
And count your few remaining hairs
Which stand up
Like small grey wires
So much of you is gone
Why not your desires
You crawl along
And the buildings stand
Like giant trees that yield nothing
No fruit, no breeze
The buildings are bald
Like you
Free of leaves
They stand bare
And proud above the streets
Where they feed no one
No one eats
But you still believe in it
You are awed
By how strong and tall
The structures stand
And so you crawl
Slowly, sadly
By some act of will or
Maybe just a deep instinct
Like a caterpillar
You crawl blindly
Up, up, up
Until you reach a place
Where you can go no further
And you pause
To curl into a tight cup
Of longing
Holding itself in
Clinging to dead things
And pretending not to feel
The sting of the wind
Ah—
You fell in love with monuments
And you lived a silver lifeless lie
And now
You are a starving caterpillar
Who will never yield
A butterfly
Photo by Aaron Burden
October Process 