//creative//
Fall 2018
Fast Day
(Metro Diner, NY, NY, July 1, 2018, 9:05 PM)
Spencer Szwalbenest
There is no blessing like the quaint headache
That I’ve probably been feeling for a few hours,
But only now register
With my first glass of water--
Colder than the belly of a great fish
When it was fashioned before creation.
And with the first forkful of my omelet
The soft-pink tubular overhead lights
Glow brighter than a fruit smoothie,
Bright enough to twinkle in a well-lit room
With no fog,
Just the soft hum of quiet chatter,
The scraping of forks on a room full of dinner plates.
With no food or water
Since 4:15 this morning,
One thinks that they can eat everything on a menu,
And under the darkness of a cautiously unlit kitchen
And 100 degree heat outside
Even schemes to raid their roommate’s refrigerator.
But with my first bite of food
An omelet, hash browns, and multigrain bread,
It seems like they are the only three foods in the world.
And where once my dry calves collapsed to gelatin,
And my hips would buckle with every misstep,
My body is now a column of sturdy clay,
The walls of my apartment secure as ever,
And the corners where they meet
Dark as a womb
The day before birth.
That I’ve probably been feeling for a few hours,
But only now register
With my first glass of water--
Colder than the belly of a great fish
When it was fashioned before creation.
And with the first forkful of my omelet
The soft-pink tubular overhead lights
Glow brighter than a fruit smoothie,
Bright enough to twinkle in a well-lit room
With no fog,
Just the soft hum of quiet chatter,
The scraping of forks on a room full of dinner plates.
With no food or water
Since 4:15 this morning,
One thinks that they can eat everything on a menu,
And under the darkness of a cautiously unlit kitchen
And 100 degree heat outside
Even schemes to raid their roommate’s refrigerator.
But with my first bite of food
An omelet, hash browns, and multigrain bread,
It seems like they are the only three foods in the world.
And where once my dry calves collapsed to gelatin,
And my hips would buckle with every misstep,
My body is now a column of sturdy clay,
The walls of my apartment secure as ever,
And the corners where they meet
Dark as a womb
The day before birth.
//SPENCER SZWALBENEST is a junior in the School of General Studies and List College. He can be reached at [email protected].