Dec 28, 2014
On Appetite
At Brighton Beach, even the birds understand the importance of bread.
They swoop down in a barb-winged cloud and it vanishes in seconds.
The sun has come out for the first time in a month. You, you’re here to buy caviar
for a New Year in which so many hungry people will remain hungry or grow hungrier.
Russian trips, then sings on your tongue like a drunk returning home.
You recall the words for reminisce, coincide: vspominat’, sovpadat’, but they stick in your throat.
You have forgotten so much some parts of you went missing. Here in the marinated mushroom aisle
you gather a handful back. You go home clutching a tin of paddlefish roe,
rattling at height through the blazing December air over the el tracks, hungry for salt.