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23 November 2010

Bread Not Stone

I asked for bread, not stone.
I am breaking my teeth on the rocks in my mouth.
The sharp edges of the gravel are tearing my throat.
I cannot digest these stones.
If I survive their passage, I will not be stronger.

I asked for a fish, not a poisonous serpent, scorpion or snake in the grass.
The poison fills me as soon as I open my mouth to shape the word "no."
There is no nourishment for my body or soul in this most unwelcome meal.

I am still hungry.

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