Half Drunk Muse Poetry


Walker by Christopher Major

You walk miles everyday,
not for fitness but to burn calories,
unleash a hunger that
gnaws flesh from bone.
A child’s stickman,
angular body slicing
through a cruel regime,
through these puddles
that ripple,re-shape
and mouth a gasp
at such a frail frame.
Embarrassed you change your route,
but you fool no one,
you’re ill, anorexic,
obsessive exercise is a symptom.

Oh, you’ll insist you’re well,
healthy…..... fat;
see even now, near the end,
you eat nothing-
not even words.

View bio for Christopher Major Published in All Poems 1999-2004

About HDM

Half Drunk Muse was one of the first poetry ezines. It was founded in 1999 and ceased publication in 2006.

Questions/comments? Email samiller@halfdrunkmuse.com.