I can no longer eat this peasant food.
Force feed me if you must.
When you are not looking I will spit it out and let my salty tears sustain me instead.
After that crystal well is dry I will welcome the hallucinations,
Illuminating visions of feasts yet celebrated.
Starving while awake, savoring only dreams.

Your grace, – a voice imagined?
This table is set for you.
Come sit,
Open your eyes wide and take in the splash of bold colors!
Close them now and let yourself feel the depths of your voracious hunger.
Slow down your mind and inhale the inviting aromas.
Now let your hands enjoy the textures of the beautiful fruits before you.
Don’t be afraid to touch that which is both smooth and rough,
All is good.

Bring to your lips that which your appetite craves.
Is your mouth on fire and your lips bruised and scratched?
Then I would say you have eaten well.
There is pain and pleasure in many of the best dishes.
Devour with abandon, feed and be fed.
Let your electric taste buds flood your body and mind until you are numb.

Soft laughter? Am I being teased?
You are not, you are being healed.
But am I Queen? Or King? Whose table is this?
You are both. We are both.
This is all yours and mine and ours.
It is the only way to live.

So are you ready for another bite?

‘The Picnic’ by Gerard McGourty

Cover art: Pablo Picasso – Le déjeuner sur l’herbe (d’après Edouard Manet), 1960 (Musée Picasso, Paris)