They pull screams over their heads and work their jaws like valises. A grunt becomes a bison. A plate becomes a plain. Flocks of silverware are snared mid-air. Coffee arrives in a khaki cup.
Power is spiced with mustard greens and curry powder.
Future after future is chewed like newspaper in a paper shredder. Finally air is clear as starbreath. Peace is thicker than exhaustion. The words are finished eating. Nothing remains but the words.