What's for lunch?
It's ten past noon,
he lays there on his couch.
Watching television,
empty stomached.
It's thursday afternoon,
six thousand kilometers away.
She sits by her toy rock,
starved, and dehydrated.
He picks up the remote,
changes channel.
His stomach gently grumbles,
What's for lunch? he wonders.
Temperature rises past thirty-five
She fiddles with the dirt.
Her stomach endlessly roars
What's for lunch? she dreams.
Thrity minutes later
the doorbell rings.
He picks up his twenty
and pays the delivery man.
Sixty seconds later,
a beetle crawls by
she springs to her feet.
and thanks her lord
He wipes his greasy mouth
on his sleeve
and leaves his unfinished grub
and falls asleep.
She enjoys her lunch
but feels very weak.
sick and tired
she falls asleep
Two hours later
he is awakened by thunder.
throws out his leftovers
and begins to read the news.
Two minutes later
she is drenched by rain,
she looks at the sky
and opens her mouth with a smile.
[...] Read more
poem by Roger Naya
Added by Poetry Lover
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