meat for a month

like the Israelites
I like to complain
and weep nostalgia over cucumbers

ignoring the steadfastness
of the One who loves me most

sitting in a desert of banality
bland and beige
dreaming with my fingertips
the ragged leaves of a cucumber plant

ignoring the manna
scattered abundantly, ready to rot

like Moses
I shout to the Almighty
what do you want me to do?

carnivores all around