There is only one way to love me.
Become a shovelnose guitarfish, whose
banquet is the sea floor, and feast on me
until I, too, am endless and mystery.
Until men compare me to infinite space
in its unknown and possible. Until no pirate
would dare sail me, unless their Jolly Roger
evoked Satan and they were hell-bent
on serving him tea. Until Poseidon and Davy Jones
allow me into their meat lockers of woe,
because I am more hungry than hunger
and the moon. When are you finished
I will become your perfect equal, the
Ergorapido, and together, we will suck on
this world, ergonomic and natural;
just listen to the way we vuum.
.___ This poem originally appeared in the chapbook Poem Food (2010).