Sunday, January 29, 2012

food master


tired of alimentary processes
pestering me, I no longer want to eat.
how beleaguered I am of the constant
pressure to consume, digest, eliminate.

(a mess/ literally)

one mess uniting us all. [consider that amount of shit]

—so I imagine surreally—just a pill. (a tiny one)
like my Hydrochlorothiazide, for blood pressure,
the size of a baby aspirin.

I imagine, among the many fantasies:
the one pill in the morning,
and I am sated.

-- with no additional worry.
that's it.

nothing more. No more wasted time chewing cud,
the endless chomp, chomp, chomp of eating.

no more "what to do for lunch?"

And most important?
the whole process ends there. Consume the pill and
the push of nutrition is immediate.

[—All of the unpleasantness of digestion—
the 'too hot' broth in my esophagus.
the gurgles in my mid section.

the fetid garbage
(meat, plants, pasta) moving beneath
my belly button, pushing toward the anus—]

esophagus to anus. esophagus to anus. over and over
the never ending alimentary canal/ ceasing only at death.

Enough. finished. one pill.
no fuss. no mess.

It is strange then: to turn back to the plate
of lunch—of lunch!

I do not understand [or like] this world.

I have no plans for dinner.