Saturday, January 23, 2016

Breakfast Blues

The oatmeal in my gut,
Mixed with nuts and sugar,
Rained down upon with swallows of coffee,
Repairing my liver,

Fiber easing the passing of feces,
Though there's the stomach pain,
Hunger abated for such a short time,
Then my stomach will need more food again,

Masticated and mixed with saliva,
Peristaltic journey,
Plunged into acid and dissipated,
Somehow nourishing me,
Then out the back,
What the fuck's this about?
Like you change from birth to your final breath,
So we're worlds for other lives' ins and outs.

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