Hungry words

There I was;
My cyncism spilling
Out of me
Like rice
On a wet kitchen floor.

I rolled around in the words,
They covered my body
Seeking safety
Where they could not be
Served to the millions
Uncooked and raw in their middle.

I took them back
All the sacred ones first
Than those that had been starved,
Used to insure silence.

Some, cut open
To deny their meaning
Cloaked to hide their truth
Some forced into mercenary mouths.

There I was;
There was no where
For us
To go
except
My own heart

Where there was suddenly
Enough Space
for all words of war
And all the words of love
And all the word of god.

Berkeley November 20th, 2004