Treis  No Milk

───

Pod's view was glued

           Trapped with birthed weeping

           His doughy prods calling the beaconing teat




But no milk

Lodger had switched the creamed transfer

for the sour hemorrhage of his gluttonous cuming




           Mouth quaking

           heaving its tremoured repulsion

           The first journey of Pod is droughted




                                       And The Way turns

                                       Eyes to The Sky's