New York

Dinner for One Reddened spoons. Napkins of aging skin. A table for none where once pumped a hopeful heart. Foolish from the start the refreshing glass of toil-laden piss, ripened to this- Vacant meal of me, mournful dish,  served raw, upon mirrored plates. -- From Jamal Hodge's upcoming book, I'm Not A Good Person, I'm A New Yorker.  Author's Statement: My poem Dinner For One takes the symbolic activity of togetherness (A dinner at a table) and turns it into a place of loneliness and horror. The grim end result of preparing a meal of yourself within your selfish choices, that…