She looked for Famine And found her, in a stony field, her nails Digging the scanty grass, and her teeth gnawing The tundra moss. Her hair hung down all matted, Her face was ghastly pale, her eyes were hollow, Lips without color, the throat rough and scaly, The skin so tight the entrails could be seen, The hip-bones bulging at the loins, the belly Concave, only the place for a belly, really, And the breasts seemed to dangle, held up, barely, By a spine like a stick-figure’s; and her thinness Made all her joints seem large; the knees were swollen Balloons, almost, the ankles lumpy tubers.
This description of Famine is so good.
