Hunger

There’s an empty
pit that demands demands
my waking need
that poison sugar pill
a gastronomic bomb
exploding concentration
as if all that I am
is what I eat
there’s more to life
isn’t there?
do all my billions of cells
need so much?

Those sausages spit
so happily in the griddle
don’t stop now
never just a nibble

That comfort food to go
those fat promises
of fat cells
to cuddle with
before I sleep
to cuddle with before I sleep
are
no
match
for my health control

I hope

There’s so much to
do before I drive through
life
I want to leave something lasting

I’ve got to work on
more legacy
than a tasteful tombstone
or tureen-shaped urn
I want to do an imitation
of my Maker
and satisfy
more than appetite.

2006/03/13

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About tgrignon

I came I saw I rented the DVD
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