William Gottlieb

What's Eating You?

the teapot
water screaming
release me

I've been trying to start a fast for days-no, weeks. The spirit says it's willing but the flesh-the habitual, food-baited body-knows better. Today is June 1st, a starting line in time. After meditating-more snooze than Om-I walk around my downstairs lair of bedroom and office, cleaning up: dirty clothes in the laundry basket, the night's books back on the shelves, order restored. Upstairs . . .

the refrigerator
hums
my first name