earl grey tea is a misnomer
it’s really more of a deep brown and it’s definitely not an earl
in my pauper’s cup.
i wake up, head throbbing, lie there between the white sheets
like a ghost, feeling the sensations
of warmth and hunger and fog.
the hunger, really, is unearned –
somehow i still see eating as a transaction, a sacrifice my body makes
one which i probably don’t deserve.
somehow despite the strong curves of my body
i still need to justify
adding cream to my coffee.
today there is a potato festival in Ebensburg, Pennsylvania
i want to set a personal record for the amount of potato i can eat
in a single day.