starving and full
By Kate Dunayer

This everything that I am

waits like an anticipation

upon the threshold

of its next moment

Both empty and pregnant

starving and full

the future becomes present

and I am here to greet it

Holding on and letting go

the universe parts, time moves

an environment surrounds me

I touch it

Something unheard of

covers my face, backlights my wishes

tosses my self to the wolves to be tested

I choose love

Fear runs like hell in the opposite direction

a broken bottle in its hand

screaming for attention

sick and dying from its own infection

Memories of hate recall the student vivisector

counting down from eight

like an eight-year-old boy playing spaceship, smoking a cigarette,

preparing the monkey's skull and body for trauma,

pressing the button, making the noise for takeoff

as the half-dead live animal's head is bashed again

by a machine specially designed to simulate

a windshield, the pavement, a wall, hit full force

by a skull.

The monkey survives

again ...

this is the third time

...not the last time...

tears pour from buckets in my head

I moan and groan on the bed, cover my mouth

hold my pants, force myself to watch

the student vivisector smoke a cigarette

pose and smile for the camera with the flailing

damaged animal he has named "Dopey."

I could kill that man this moment.

When I was born I knew this would happen.

At this moment I know everything.

And this everything that I know is me

waiting like an anticipation

upon the threshold

of my next moment

Both empty and pregnant

starving and full.

Originally published on The Animals Voice