Gin-fueled hunger struck
I stumbled to the kitchen
Fumbling for satisfaction
Yet found myself
******* utensils instead
Peripheral glimmer seized me
I separated chef knife
From stone block
With righteous appetite
Like King Arthur
Oh, how I pictured
What it might be like
To plunge steel beast
Through hollow stomach
Tempt it to twist and saunter
Through tired spine
Would I feel pain
Succeeding shock?
Or would my skin sigh relief
Delighted to release
Pressure seething beneath?

I am still hungry