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Hunger May. 29, 2003 ] 10:38 AM Always the hunger, the subtle touch of tongue on salt A short moment shattered by the stillness of time Where the cars drive in the distance and are driving still In the distant time when hunger snared and the moment was broken On the steel frame of disbelief and despair. Always the inexorable fullness of tears, Slipping past the leash of the beast, the ravenous beast. Trickle, percolate and rise through white-hot anger as Steam, and leave salt trails, unmasking the unsatisfied Of its contented fulfillment, broken past restraint. Still, the cars drive on, and still my hunger curses me, A fatal litany, that cobbles together from scraps thrown; Wasted time, wasting from lack of sustenance, From that distant moment when belief broke and hunger lost. wax ] wane