Good Evening, Enormous Appetite

Rebecca Hazelton

I see you've brought your dinner of lilies and pork rinds
to tempt this prim androgyne to appetite,
you've let the juices of a young buck's roasted rump
seep beneath the salt and gold leaf crust,
and dripped roses, roses,
on the bed until their vegetal odor
heavies the air into fatter molecules
of rotting coupled to sweet.

You don't maiden. You don't swain.
When you heave your fleshy gut my way
I open my arms, wide, wider, all of you
I take in and swallow, your buttery finish
will coat me for years to come
with arterial plaque, diamond hard.