poem
Volume 37, Number 1

Soup Kitchen by My Hotel

A recent guest
dropped a star
from her review.

All delightful, except on
Sundays, when the
food attracts the hungry,
though she used another name.

Called for police presence
to police the hungry.

The hotel thanked her
for the four-star review.

The missing fifth star—
collapsed core of The Light,
black hole of our shame.


—Dolo Diaz