Good for You

My sister and I would dare each other
at the dinner table, once we sucked the chicken
from the bone, to eat the white knuckle-joints.
There's a bump on the roof of my mouth
where I cut my gums trying to win.
The last to the marrow had to eat it.
 
It's good to know true hunger. It's good
to let your body get so hungry that you remember
you're nothing special. You're nothing but a
break-it-down machine. Standing in line at 4am
in the Hong Kong airport waiting for a bowl of
something you can't identify, 37 hours
since your last meal, it's good to miss
the taste of bone.

 
Molly Prosser

Molly Prosser (molly.prosser@gmail.com) is always Mrs. Peacock in Clue.


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