seven hungry heads
maintaining seven hungry mouths
that gape, that cry
that circle in the sky like underfed vultures
and sing, and sing,
with seven separate melodies
a moaning song of need,
of dying and perishing and withering
for lack, for lack, for lack.
seven gaping mouths
singing seven tearful songs,
asking where you are
and how you got there and
lusting for more words,
more sustenance, more ears to hear
and hearts to devour,
for food, for food, for food.
seven eager heads
swivel with fourteen searching eyes
looking for bodies,
for flesh or for motion
or bright colors, anything to catch
at seven starving minds:
there is nothing like the miracle
of ascension to pound
sobriety into a world that used to shine,
where seven hungry dragon heads
mount a guard and do not sleep.