so sudden the sickness came

In a large pot I brazed the beef and threw in
some tomatoes and green peppers. Next came the beans,
an assortment of black and pinto and chili beans.
It got good and hot and filled the house with warm smells.
The packet of spices came next and a few pinches of brown sugar
to take out the tart.
But it was the worst chili I have ever had. The spices were all wrong.
It was bitter and heat tasted rancid.
And I got to thinking about hunger and how many times I have felt
that curiosity in my time.
That knotting feeling that gets in the guts. The emptiness. The shallow,
wretched feeling like you have vomited, but nothing was there.
I put on some Charlie Parker and grilled myself a sandwich
and popped open a Coke.
The chili was still in there. I could remember the texture, the smell,
the violent red of the broth turning in the pot. I thought of hunger and
sat the plate down with an uneaten sandwich on top and listened to the music while
I drank my Coke.
I walked outside onto my front porch and gazed at the sky whirling around,
churning in a storm and the winds came and it smelled clean.
Back in the house, I grabbed the pot of chili and brought it outside and chucked it into
the trash and returned the pot and placed it in the sink and rinsed it out there to wash some other time.
The first few drops of rain hit the pavement and the steam rose in cotton puff rolls.
A gust of wind. The lights went out and the music stopped. The quiet, save only for the wind and rain.
And the sun started to drop, wronged by the wind. I lit a few candles and poured myself a drink
and lit a cigarette and watched the weather gather through the clouds.
This is what it is for the world to be hungry. The planet's churning guts, knotting in the sky. Its feeling
of sick from my disposed chili.
And so was I.