The Familiarity of Hunger
Scott Ennis
A table’s just a plank with wooden legs
A plate is just a disk that doesn’t fly
I read a story once of ham and eggs
And wished we had enough, such things to buy
Is Mother Hubbard’s dog a metaphor
Of me and all the times I went without?
I guess that’s why the neighbors called us poor
An epithet of truth, I have no doubt
But truth is not like food to fill your gut
So keep your truth. I’m hungry. Give me food
A victim of some righteous budget cut
I’d love a steak with righteousness imbued
But steak is not familiar, not to me
I know there’s no such thing as lunch that’s free.