i will build a yurt            it will satisfy my soul
i will make a short film
i will learn polite society's manner
these things   will satisfy my soul
i will become genuine and plant a bright garden
   and satisfy my soul
i will employ better personal hygiene
   become sexually activated
        and roam the streets aggravated
will i satisfy my soul there ?
raise a flag, have a care ?
i could eat a meal slowly  you know  as an experience
     using mouthfeel skills and detecting it's notes
don’t pay the bill  start a riot  and register to vote
i will - i won't ; do the things
    and rattle my pelt til i am soul sated

indulgence and bliss
two sides of the same coin and a wish
once listless
now released—
she hums.

I’m hanging off a building
that I’d decided not to jump
now I’m wishing I was thinner
not so heavy or as plump
for the weight in my belly
is now heavier than in my head
yet it’s hard to hold on, I know
for a man whose well fed
this change of heart in me
has me cursing on the edge
a change of mind, I fear
is too late on the ledge
sure, the worlds a little heavy
now thinking of all the food
all the meals and the delicacy
I wish I’d never chewed
If a little had I to nibble
I’d be much lighter now
yes, I’d have cheated death
and still hold on somehow
but now these greasy fat fingers
which held once a burger or two
are hardly hanging on
and now are slipping through
oh the life I’d give to live
a chance to change my mind
to find some strength, to weave
to push up and to climb
with only one hope now
in sweets, thats kept me alive
just to hang in there or let go
maybe bounce back and survive

Modern Appetite
by Michael R. Burch

It grumbled low, insisting it would feast
on blood and flesh, etcetera, at least
three times a day. With soft lubricious grease

and pale salacious oils, it would ease
its way through life. Each day—an aperitif.
Each night—a frothy bromide, for relief.

It lived on TV fare, wore pinafores,
slurped sugar-coated gumballs, gobbled S’mores.
When gas ensued, it burped and farted. ’Course,

it thought aloud, my wife will leave me. ******
are not so **** particular. Divorce
is certainly a settlement, toujours!

A Tums a day will keep the shrink away,
recalcify old bones, keep gas at bay.
If Simon says, etcetera, Mother, may

I have my hit of calcium today?

Keywords/Tags: modern, appetite, supersize, me, indulgence, gluttony, bromide, seltzer, gas, Tums, calcium, quick, cure, tonic, overeating

Modern Appetite
by Michael R. Burch

It grumbled low, insisting it would feast
on blood and flesh, etcetera, at least
three times a day. With soft lubricious grease

and pale salacious oils, it would ease
its way through life. Each day—an aperitif.
Each night—a frothy bromide, for relief.

It lived on TV fare, wore pinafores,
slurped sugar-coated gumballs, gobbled S’mores.
When gas ensued, it burped and farted. ’Course,

it thought aloud, my wife will leave me. ******
are not so **** particular. Divorce
is certainly a settlement, toujours!

A Tums a day will keep the shrink away,
recalcify old bones, keep gas at bay.
If Simon says, etcetera, Mother, may

I have my hit of calcium today?

Keywords/Tags: modern, appetite, supersize, me, indulgence, gluttony, bromide, seltzer, gas, Tums, calcium, quick, cure, tonic, overeating

Steady if your soul hurts, oh your on it
Dive in but don't drown on your verbal *****
You were caught up in a shitstorm
Ready to reform
It's time
Giving it up

If I could fight through the worst
Dice with devil 'cause the silence hurts
Go on have another hit to see
Let it set you free
Please.
Silently screaming
Giving it up

Like you used too
Like you always do
Just Like you

Instead she’s made it all worse, calm to chronic
Pipe up but don't choke
Maverick or moronic
Never to anticipate pain
Pay to bleed again
It's time
Giving it up

Like you used too
Like you always do

Firing your old thoughts, over shot it
Clear cut but still dirt on you have you forgot it
You were coasting in a slipstream
Never to be seen
Its time

If I could fight through the worst
Dice with devil 'cause the silence hurts
Go on have another hit to see
Let it set you free
Please.
Silently screaming
Giving it up

Like you used too
Like you always do
Like you used to
Like you always do
Like you used too
Like you always do

Liberty is the highest decree.
Independence and opportunity -
the finest, paramount glee.

Certainly indeed!

But are we really
moving towards being free?
Or is it brazen entitlement
that we blatantly feed?

#

You ask of the next catastrophe.

Mass irresponsibility:
that is sadly what
it will be
...smh
That is sadly what it will be.