The Maynard
Spring 2015

John Grey


Three burgers and a shake,
large fries, scoffed down
in an instant
and he never grew fat.

He was as wiry
as a mattress coil
and just as springy.

Even the ones
who starved themselves to death in prison
kept more on their bones.

He existed like air exists,
to be breathed in and out,
or not be bothered.
And he could move
eland quick,
as he ate and ran.
ate and ran.
Sure, he loved fast food,
but he was faster.

Haven’t seen him in years.
Maybe he joined the ranks
of the rest of us,
middle-aged bulge,
appetites subject to the calories of time.

Or could be,
the more he scoffed down,
the thinner he became,
invisible now
but just as ravenous.

Remember when I met you at McDonalds
and there was one fry left on your plate
and you turned your back for a moment
and it disappeared.
That’s him.