Pica (
/ˈpaɪkə/ py-kə) is characterized by an appetite for substances largely non-nutritive (such as clay or chalk).[1] For these actions to be considered pica, they must persist for more than one month at an age where eating such objects is considered developmentally inappropriate. There are different variations of pica, as it can be from a cultural tradition, acquired taste or a neurological mechanism such as an iron deficiency, or chemical imbalance. (source: wiki)
/ˈpaɪkə/ py-kə) is characterized by an appetite for substances largely non-nutritive (such as clay or chalk).[1] For these actions to be considered pica, they must persist for more than one month at an age where eating such objects is considered developmentally inappropriate. There are different variations of pica, as it can be from a cultural tradition, acquired taste or a neurological mechanism such as an iron deficiency, or chemical imbalance. (source: wiki)
pica
A
light lunch, a salad of mixed Swedish words,
blue
paper chunks, peppered with tobacco.
Glossy
nail polish juice, garnished
with
a thousand fine pieces of hot pink glitter.
A
fresh palette cleanser, flower petal
and
grey wool ice cream, ideal even in winter.
The
kisses of blue-eyed young girls,
dialogue
from TV shows dealing with the supernatural,
and
transfeminist post-pornographic blog posts,
-the
slam poetry of NYC kids pretending to be Egon Schiele-
wash
it down with sweet blackberry fountain pen ink.
The
crusty mustard pages of old books and black leather jackets.
For
dinner, the memories of rough pillows melting in your mouth,
literal
finger-licking goodness late-night snack.
This is the poem I had been working on. I wrote it on paper, which I rarely do. I am much much better now. But for a while there, it was like involuntary anorexia nervosa, man. Ta.
