Contributor: J. K. Durick

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I have eaten my words -- sometimes, they’re bitter,
sometimes, salty. And other times, they’ve been too
lumpy, clumpy, a bit too well done on the outside,

with raw, underdone middles, hard to chew, hard to
swallow. I have sat uncomfortably eating words and
trying to digest them. I have brought them home in

buckets and bags. I have sat down with others in
comfortable surroundings and properly dined on
them. I have dignified course after course of them.

I have eaten my words outside on the lawn, standing
out front, one-on-one, gathered groups to watch me.
I have played with them, chewed them slowly and

swallowed what I could. Then I have gathered up all
the leftovers and wrapped them, put them in small
containers, like this one, and put them away for another day.


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J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Write Room, Madswirl, Third Wednesday, and Up the River.