recently at Series Magritte

The Famine

We turn into clowns &
start by fighting over who
has the right to eat Ensor's
Skeletons fighting over a
smoked herring. Eventually
that's gone, torn into little
pieces; but the intake doesn't
stay the hunger so we turn

upon each other. Now I'm
the last one left, & what is
left of me, I realize, is all the
food remaining. Where should
I start? I take off what's left of
my clown clothes. Naked-
ness is the proper dress for
facing existential questions.