ethical consumption

we all get together to feel sorry
for the beautiful birds we're about to eat.
my dad says, "they taste like lungs."
we make a circle & the television
plays an ad about freedom. you say,
"maybe we could have enough to replace
the windows." there is a crack in the one
on the second floor that i've never told 
you about. i just keep hoping it'll go away.
the hunger becomes a house guest
then becomes a room. 
i lived on nothing but ground onions
for a whole spring. my stomach turned
sprout green & all the neighborhood kids
came to watch. i don't want to fly.
i don't want to purchase the next pair
of wings. instead, i want to sell my teeth
like pokemon cards. open my mouth
as wide as it will go. let all the birds back out.
watch their flesh return to bone. 
when we ran out of food on year
my family drew straws to decide 
who hand we would eat. it was mine.
they all said, "don't worry it will grow back."
never believe anyone if they tell you this.
it will not grow back the same. i had watched
my mother's hand return like an early daffodil,
crumpled & loud. always tasting like
bitter herbs. an application for a passport.
my gender, a little light switch made.
i hardly ever eat until i've full. mostly,
i'm starving & then sick. in a pot 
i watch as my mom makes the hand.
we don't know whose it is tonight. the birds
are all gathered on the roof in protest.
i go outside to try to apologize. they are
playing a video game with a glowing god. 
a ghost passes by on the street wearing 
a shopping back on her back like a snail.