Hunger

Why don’t I eat something new
like the map of Sudan, for example
or the Egyptian delta
in a longitudinal slice
from split branches to mouth
a million generations of built up silt
or eat a vast library
full of immense books on the soul
or a French dictionary
until letters stream from my eyes
Why don’t I eat an extremely beautiful woman
raw save for her femininity
Why don’t I eat a whole warehouse
of steel nuts for high-octane trucks
Why don’t I eat a Communist Party
or a whole town, maybe Damascus
Why don’t I eat something like Sayyed Darwish Hall
at the Academy of Arts
Why don’t I eat something forgotten in one dream
and sought in vain in the next
Hunger devours me
and still I travel
indifferent to what you’re eating …