We are Hungry Ghosts br of the poetry world br feeding off of br carefully picked words br never seeming to eat enough br to satiate our appetites, br discriminately browsing br to discover br the most delectable br predators br whose carcass morsels br taste most divine br on the tongue br than any other br feast we've eaten br but hunger br never seems to wane br and doesn't fill br the space within br our wondering souls br left to exist br on other ghostly banquets br that we attend br in thin veils br of dust and vapour br where, at every table br we meet br professional diners br who write br editorials on what br they've consumed br of blood, bone and marrow br some have even taken up br following earthbound cats br to lead them down br some meaty paths br where stuffing filled vocabulary br and pate' imagery br temporarily fill br a void- br then back again br for another serve br of verse br too rhymed br it tastes of slime br and so, we throw br that one away- br to hunt another.