by Joel Kuper

It begins as hunger does
deep down, breathing from the bone,
has a need, a desire to be filled

water overlaps itself in a
ravenous fashion, moving the
Moose River in swells

I walked into the Catholic cemetery
with a beached horizontal sickness,
gravestones were upturned and
a chain saw was chewing
through next years’ wood

it’s cold, ice still on the crosses
and everything is coated in dust as
my body eats away at itself, unable
to identity what has been ingested

the mud of Moosonee, cocoa in
colour, becomes body paint

it starts with a sandy mouth,
dirt in the creases of your eyes,
soon the earth enfolds you,
walks you back to the river
and says

here is where your heart is.

Joel lives on the shore of Lake Superior with his growing family. He is a writer/actor who has performed across North America. His latest fascination is trying to blow more bubbles than newborn Neebing. Joel has been published widely, most recently in Nexus, Event, Qwerty, New Orphic Review and Haight Ashbury Literary Journal.