They cut, crush, cauterize or tie off the eyestalk
of female prawns and shrimp
to stimulate faster reproduction
   usually without anesthesia

I often wonder the complexity of pain felt
when they flail about helplessly
disoriented and dissevered

Do they     rejoice?  

For their life has a gained greater purpose.

Or do they mourn what once was?

For the following generations will be disease-prone and decline
and suffer
and decay.

Nothing we haven't already done to ourselves admittedly.
We might actually be the only organisms
unable to cohabitate with each other.

We seek God to fear our actions
that are preached as sins.
It keeps us good and honest
Yet our empires and civilizations repeatedly fall
generation after generation
as power is granted to our rulers that partake in
Eyestalk Ablation.

For we worship them over God himself.
It's a good thing we were getting tired of God anyways.

Pancakes are fluffy, soft,
Her cuteness reaches the Sky,
Amongst blooming flowers
A beautiful butterfly.

Waffles are firm, Krispy,
And yet tender is his care,
Love can make a castle
And he is a building square!

Waffles and Pancakes:
Soft and Firm. Fluffy against Crispy?
Yet somehow mixing them isn't risky!
They journey together, hand in hand,
Their love unites the land!

I am your Waffle,
You are my Pancake,
And no matter what,
Our love won't ever shake!

Don’t you ever
eat
out of tradition?
Like,
you are not hungry;
but not loaded either.
Your stomach is just
as numb as your heart.

But you still eat,
because food tastes good;
because they sat you down;
because you ought to;
because you’re used to the feeling.

Even when there is no joy
to the taste;
you eat.

Eat,
eat,
eat.

You did it so often
the action
must have lost all its meaning.

Semantic satiation.

my longing,
is never fading,
my heart, it keeps invading,

yet,

it consumes,
and blooms,
a harbinger of doom,

it is not nice,
nor worth the price,
doesn't listen to advice,
this creeping vice,

I'll admit it to be true,
for this is my ode to you,
my nemesis,
companion,
and lover,
...food.

It drips, it teases, it moans my name,
A wicked desire I cannot tame.
Its scent seduces, deep and bold,
Luring me closer, my senses unfold.

Each bite lingers, slow and sweet,
Juicy, tender, pure carnal treat.
My lips embrace, my hunger sighs,
A pleasure so deep, it melts, it glides.

No wipes saves me, let it spill,
The taste, the heat, the aching thrill.
Tongue tracing every sinful trace,
Savoring each indulgent embrace.

And as the final drops dissolve,
A fizzy burst, ecstasy evolves.
A feast so perfect, craving no more,
Surrender to passion, give in, explore.

Choose wisely. Choose Wendy’s.

There's nothing magical about being intentional.
It's about the beneficial, not just the permissible.
Don't be mindful of the infinitesimal
But watch the frequency of every mouthful
Watch the size of your morning bowlful
And what you spread on a wholemeal bagel.

That way you'll find you'll be more healthful.

Although I should be a little more truthful –
I can get all emotional
And potentially inspirational
About my preferable, honey-based
Sticky sauce that’s truly capital (BBQ).

There once was a woman from Seoul
Who swallowed an octopus whole:
     It swam in her belly
     With fishes of jelly,
Then plopped in a porcelain bowl.