Next Meal

Hail! The gravy boat sets sail,
right on course for a next meal.

Say, what’s the deal with meals anyhow?
Meals that make the belly limp, not full,
that make woolly the gaze
and daze the eater to a state of Being?

Ah, the seeping, all-seeing hands of nourriture
lay heavy upon us, rubbing our rubbingly
rubbish flesh so tenderly-aggressive.
And with each successive chew,
the scenery grows duller and more ambiguous,
our mouths grow duller and more ambiguous,
and our brains grow sullen and more superfluous.
Therefore, let us languish here
and liquefy, as slowly and as certainly
as the nutriment that rules us.

-r. miller

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