Dante Novario


I threw in some potatoes. Garlic for taste. A dash
Of denial, simmer. I’ll unload the trauma
Of eating disorders later, dry heave, I’m not
Hungry anyway. I threw in my first brush with death - gold
Fish - how easy that was compared
To the rest. Carrots. Tears for salt.
Then no tears. I wanted something bitter
To induce a vomit, gag, throw
The spoon across the room. Poppy seed,
A pinch of basil, sautee the bouquet of eyelashes
ripped from my body, wishes no longer included.
Warm marshmallows, my first s’more, I can almost
Remember the taste. Bile.
Blood. The hot sweat of a dying afternoon
When I first realized I wanted to taste no more.
Foam bubbles cascading over the edge
Making a mess of it.
Pills so colorful and so plain
I’ll digest them through my nose.
Shoe polish, foulard ties stuck clogging
My airway, I’ll cram as much money in
As my little mouth can take.
Mirror shards, plain white flour, I baked
A cake and stared at it
for an hour. Sucked on my sore until it
Turned into wound into scar,
Tasted good too.
I’ll savor the lies trapped in my
Hell’s mouth, lick my teeth and cut
My tongue on the edge of them. Smoke and
Smoke until I no longer feel the sensation.
I’ll trade it for rain, for every last sting of sunshine
Stir and stir till my fingernails
Checker, til i can swim in there, find scrumptious
Bread and wine, see the wind
Blowing the tides of this stew back
To the island of my stomach rumbling
Always rumbling.

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