Dali, Salvador . Cannibalism in Autumn . 1936-37
Alice has the Munchies

Allured by hungry growls of chesire moon
aglow with harvest grin, she's on the prowl
for moonlit bits to scoop upon the spoon

and fork, to knead the man turned clay. A howl
escaped his melting ribs while tea was spilled
at dusk. He tasted quite like fattened fowl.

Before she swallowed nips of flesh that filled
her empty drawers with folds of fallen trust,
she saw a shrunken mislead girl who'd killed

her only wish: to shun the sculptured dust,
erase the moon, replace it with the sun,
allow herself to leave the dying lust

on autumn's bed. But Alice had begun
to feast before the beast had come undone.

©2000 Peggy Putnam Owen





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