Hungry Ghosts

There are hungry ghosts,
it’s a Buddhist thing,
roaming the streets,
looking to fill themselves,
although they are unable to do so.

You probably know a few,
consuming as if they were
never going to eat again,
the Lord himself having turned
His back on them.

And they are always busy,
scurrying around like the track
they are on was about to run out
of rail.

And so, we see them, and sometimes
they are us.

Like empty jars with the lids
shut tight.

Neal Zirn’s work has appeared in New York Quarterly, Mudfish, Blueline, North Dakota Quarterly, The Dalhousie Review, The Big Windows Review, and California Quarterly. He has placed eight times in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest. His chapbook Manhattan Cream was published by MuscleHead Press, and another chapbook, Up North, was published by Finishing Line Press, which will publish My Blue Sweetie in 2024.