a report on my fast

my factory closes:

no input or


it begins consuming


drill presses eat


pancreas devours the


janitor roasts the ribs

of the foreman

over a gasoline drum.

i look for meaning

in this insurrection.


this morning a school bus came

roaring out

my mouth.

i must have built it

years ago,



this is the last call

I make to

you on the outside.

my machines

still run,

producing nothing.


i do not need

your help.


Published by


I've been writing mostly poetry for many years and have gotten a number of works accepted in publications and anthologies. I'm most interested in communicating with poets for whom craft is a high priority. I enjoy finding and commenting on poetic gems in other people's work. For my own work, I welcome polite comments, whether positive or critical.

9 thoughts on “a report on my fast”

    1. the subconscious can lead one to some intriguing, sometimes horrible places. for me, reality can become a gelatinous or a metallic substance. so glad you found the poem interesting and that you read my poems.


  1. When I read this poem, I am impressed and also something touched me too… Maybe I am wrong, but there is a touch of being older… It was amazing. Thank you dear Michael, Love, nia


  2. nia, thank you for your perceptive comment. i guess that if i survive long enough then i might see things differently than i did when i was younger. it’s not that i am smarter. it’s not that i am necessarily wiser. aeschylus notes that we “can” learn from suffering. but sometimes we don’t. i think that you have noticed something important in the poem. i appreciate that you shared your responses.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A heavy, vivid piece. Evokes some Rust Belt imagery for me, with the factory and machines connecting to an intense physicality, a sense of physical memory balanced with an understanding of inevitable decay. Great stuff, lean and spare and strong.


  4. To read this is to feel, to be reminded, of my own mortality and to desire deeply to prolong this moment I currently inhabited…and to reach out and comfort others, so that we may reassure each other…


  5. You are truly a strong, steady composer – it is a delight to sort of settle into the rhythm of your voice. There’s a quiet violence to it all. I appreciate that. Kansas spreads out in it as well. I appreciate that. Sometimes I wonder if you’re Stafford’s cousin.


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