There was a young man who was obese.
He ate too much and now he's deceased.
He went to his favorite restaurants and ate a lot of food every day.
He died at the age of thirty and it's not surprising that he passed away.
His family told him that his gluttony might prove fatal and they begged him to go on a diet.
Even though they told him over and over that his obesity might end his life, he didn't buy it.
One evening when he was through eating, he had a massive heart attack and hit the floor.
He died instantly and his wife and children grieve because their patriarch isn't alive anymore.
He scoffed at the idea if dieting and he suffered a horrible fate.
He might not have died if he had made an effort to lose weight.

Cook for me,
put things in the ***
that make my tongue go
Hello Dolly!

Rock ‘n’ roll flavours
savoury sweet and acid hot
so lips smack and I get lost

It’s not the quantity that counts
just the beguiling intensity
of spice blends, herbs
and the nerve to let the metal smoke

The fat, the grease,
of these in between days
stills my pen a little

So even if I wrestle
with another monumental year tick,
like the crack of doom

I look at the stuff in the fridge
and shrug

The existential crisis can wait
til the brie is done
and the crackers
have gone soft

Deep into the night,

he read, deep into the words –


We're digging him out.

The appetite of a people-pleaser cannot be appeased,

due to the want of satisfying everybody's needs

There was a child in the heart of our land emaciated, starving, weak.
And there he sat on sticks and stones to beaten down to speak.
So he dreamed, our little boy, of things he wished he had.
He dreamed of things like food and food so he wouldn’t feel so sad.
A bite of food was a dream indeed, better than any other
And for one, selfish as it may seem, he'd push aside his brother.
So he stuffed his face with a dream, the glutton, his eyes squeezed so, so tight.
His belly full with tasty thoughts, he savored every bite.
And once, the moon, who’d seen his dreams, asked the glutton why.
Our little boy he closed his eyes and said this with a sigh;
“I’ve never felt my belly full and begging for release. I’ve starved my days, yes all of them and longed for nothing but peace.
So leave me to my deadly sin, I’ll pay for it in time
for you have yours which I know not and gluttony is mine”.

Selfish are we,
as they breathe death.
Creeps undetected,
its gluttony is relentless.

Infected by narcissus,
obsessed with “want”.
Devoured and exhausted,
we perish when exposed.

Divided by masks,
one selfless,
the other selfish.
It's your choice.