When our arms 

grow

meaty

as drumsticks 

‘midst

wilting and 

hunger 

and 

flowered vases on tables and 

waiters 

with pens in their hands

shall we

save 

up 

money 

for diets and books

and programs and plans

and consultants

and cooks 

so we can 

LOOK

good

at what nots

and hob knobs

and galas

while 

outside

hunger is conceived

and carried 

under her shrinking breasts 

and poverty walks and talks 

to her unborn child 

who cries 

for food

oh-

but there are 

flowered vases on tables and 

waiters

with pens in their hands

who await

to feed 

US

!

’til 

our thighs bulge 

soft and 

plump

and our complaints 

about weight gain

grow,

while the child 

within her wilts and dies

so…

shall we buy 

gym memberships to

become beautiful,

TAKE

selfies to

send 

to our friends…

 neglect

 the ache within our hearts 

to run 

and not grow weary 

beyond city gates

with pens

 in our hands

to serve

our very selves 

dying on streets

?

shall we 

CHOOSE

to let the flowers 

outside 

grow 

brittle and

thin

’til petals fall

like dust

and ashes 

rest

on our arms as

meaty as marbled

drumsticks

?

or…

like a selfie taken 

on a fragrant sunrise

shall we arise to

share 

yes, that’s it

arise to share

our meals

and in so doing

show

the world something 

truly 

Beautiful ?