Poem by William Rivera

Hunger down the Block
  
Michelangelo kicked his Moses in the knee
to make him move.  A kick in an empty stomach
took me home everyday summers:
canned tuna fish, mashed potatoes.  I wished for
more but ate whatever was dished out. 
 
Satisfied, I bit my lip to see my playmates
wrapped against the afternoon, their pools of septic fate,
and grew to know their upsurge, stealing food --
the upshot of their munching mouths,
their slow desire for any edible, half-eaten food
‘down the hatch,’  their laugher -- imagining
lives that swallow trout and sauerkraut.  
 
I post small gifts, drop coins in outstretched hands,
relive the fear, reflect what turns my stomach.

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William Rivera has three full-length books, and one chapbook, of poems: Buried in the Mind’s Backyard (Brickhouse Books, 2011): The Living Clock (a chapbook, Finishing Line Press, 2013); Noise (Broadkill River Press, 2015); and Café Select, with reproductions by Spanish/American artist, Miguel Conde (Poet’s Choice Publishing, 2016). In recent years, he has published in numerous literary magazines, including: Innisfree, Broadkill River Review, Raven’s Perch, The Broome Review, California Quarterly, Gargoyle, Recursive Angel, The Curator Magazine, Third Wednesday, Ghazal. Lit Undressed, Blazevox, The Pangolin Review, 2River Review, Loch Raven, Dual Coast Magazine, and others.

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