If you can't eat without me don't
Can't stomach the thought of my gullet
Full of food you didn't cook
Bland tactless English delight
Boil the heart out, dispose of the soul
The taste of resignation
A sense of higher morality
As if his callused hand contained a godly glory
A Buddhist wisdom, a song of peace
A place untouched by the fettering, fleeting feelings of a family
That can't appreciate the art
Of brutal meditation