Insatiable

Some would say
it’s an embarrassment of riches,
this contemporary life we struggle
to contain.

I’ve stood with many
at the long groaning table
punctuated
with shiny things that gush
like chocolate fountains
spewing
not sweetness but overload—

greasy caloric non-nutritive soup
of words, opinions, pseudo-facts
and AI generated pictures
that spill over the sides
of all the plated
non-news
umbrellaed by banners that chirp

you need this you need us you need
more more more.

I’m not shocked
to find myself in good company
at this buffet
hosted by our collective greed.

We are after all
quite susceptible
and it seems so carefully planned.

Rich we are
in many things
but I can’t find calm
peace
balance
quiet
slow

I can’t find sustenance
under all those rivers of sauce.

I’m issuing an invitation,
tiny but raucous:

Join my little lunch
of eye contact and deep listening,
small plates of poems,
background smooth guitar
wee bowls of reciprocal kindness
topped with just a dot
of whipped delight.

You won’t leave sated—that’s not the point.
I hope you’ll leave ravenous for more.

Bring nothing but your appetite
for connection.

Arrive nude if you’d like.
Some won’t even notice
dazzled as they are
by their screens
filled with images
of the Emperor’s new clothes.

 

Thanks for reading!

-Melinda Coppola