Poem by Theresa M. Richard

America, My Name Is Hunger

Bless me father
for I have sinned.
My name is Hunger. 
I am ancient.
I am birthed from Greed.
I am today and tomorrow.

My name is Hunger.
I live on the streets.
I live hidden in the suburbs.
I live in factories and on farms.

I live In Oregon.
A family of eight go to a food bank, 
receiving blocks of cheese and sacks
of oatmeal. At home they feed
the oatmeal to their rabbits. They breed
the rabbits for meat. They know Hunger,
he is a cousin, he breeds resignation and despair.
The youngest child is five. 
 When asked about her dreams,
innocent wide eyes query,
“What is a dream?”
Hunger is greedy. 
He leaves no room for dreams. 

My name is Hunger.
I live on the streets.
I live in cars.
I live under bridges.

I live in the North.
The wrenching cry of loons
is challenged by the wailing of dogs
forced to eat their brothers. 
They mourn the disaster of being born.
They mourn the skeletal humans 
unable to provide sustenance.
They mourn the heroics and 
loyalty they have rendered.

Isaiah tells me he once would feed
his whole family for a week, on one swan. 

Then, the white man came, 
bringing senseless death to 
hundreds of thousands
for their bloodstained feathers.
Now, the swans are protected. 

My children are named Hunger, says Isaiah.
They live in the alleys.
They live in the jails.
They live in the brothels.

In the cities, young and old emaciated
citizens with pinpoint opioid pupils 
are the offspring of pharma greed.
The offspring of Hunger.

A thin young man with 
outstretched claw approaches,
he says don’t you know me? 
My name is Hunger and I am your son.

I live In Seattle 
and in Brooklyn
in Huston and in Detroit.
I live on the streets.
I live on the reservations.
I live in the ghettos.
I live in the suburbs.
I live in factories and on farms.

I am your child, your parent
your tomorrow.

Click on the file to listen to Theresa read her poem:

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Theresa Richard retired from a career as an editor to live in Ireland and embrace life as a
writer of poetry and short stories. She worked for Breakwater Books in Newfoundland;
Fitzhenry and Whiteside, Toronto; the Canadian Government, Mobile Oil, and the Daily
Journal (US Appellate Court Cases), she was the Editorial Director at the Center for Civic
Education in Los Angeles, editing law-related education text books. Born and raised in NYC,
she has also lived and worked in Alaska, Newfoundland, Montreal, and briefly in Ecuador, places that provide landscapes for her creative writing.

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