The Hunger Crew

Ballerina toes stretch toward
feathers, white blossoms that kiss
starved necks. Embrace

each black swan that
glides gloss pages.
A tongue is a miracle,

lapping up salt rocks,
serving colour to dull
business skirts. Charlie

waits in a back drop suit,
drenched in wallflowers
while the Hunger Crew

takes its place as
hard flesh grain.