Look what you've done! double the serving size of torment the battle has begun hunger pangs won't relent another helping: slashes of lament I'd rather be empty necessary rations, I resent beneficial to you, poisonous to me drifting through the days, rugged debris I've become a lunchroom paralytic ignore me, mediocre bourgeoisie not a stomach, but a heart granitic I ask for seconds - of love, not larder For once, I feel full. Incomparable ardor.