Hunger

By KOLBUS MOOLMAN

And God gave the man little wingless birds,
small as a shock,
to eat while He was away.

And a cup the size of a scab,
in case His return was delayed,
and the rain ran out.

But the man ate all the birds on the first day,
he was so hungry, and by
the second, the scab was picked raw.

Now the man has nothing left
to live on except
the dirt under his fingernails.

He does not know what he is going to do
when the third day comes
and goes without Him.

 

 

Kobus Moolman is an award-winning South African poet and playwright. He teaches creative writing at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Durban.

Click here to purchase Issue 04

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Hunger

Related Posts

Red Cadillac interior.

Jesus’ Body Found Outside Ice Cream Parlor in Black Suburb 

STEFAN BINDLEY-TAYLOR
His left wrist dangled out the half-wound-down glass of a boxy brown Cadillac with red felt seats. Flies drifted in and out. He had a dip top cone in his hand. The place was famous for them. You’d think it would be melting in the heat, but the molten chocolate shell held

Headshot of Aimee Nezhukumatathil

Nocturne for Dark Things

AIMEE NEZHUKUMATATHIL
One of the marvels of my life— / an alphabet. A whole green and mossy / world can be made and remade / from just twenty-six dark curlicues. / Here’s more dark: sometimes birds sleep / tucked under a giraffe’s dusky armpit / and sometimes fungi fatten only at night.

A fishing boat on Dal Lake in Kashmir

[Freedom Song]

FATIMAH ASGHAR
i plead, come help free me from me. what an overworked god / the policemen’s gun turning towards the sand, the ocean’s azaadi / crashing blue wave after blue into the fishing boat, thieving / life from its water. everything is a freedom song, i hear azaadi / in the wind & in the flood