Treasure Island

Sylvia Chidi

(Germany)

Slaves of Food


Thick red blood veins bath in anger
The stomach grumbles in idiotic anger
A taste of food and out springs laughter
Triumphant moods commence again after

And it can be argued
We are all but slaves of food
Digesting away between interludes
Without food the mind is wholly screwed

We consume and wear different costumes
With food for thought and food of all sorts
We eat for the heart until it sets us apart
While the crumbs are often sought by rats

The pleasure one feels after a congested meal
That inner gratifying satisfaction is cheap but real
Toast, eggs and beans and it is work and work
Fruits, wine and cakes and it is talk and talk
Coffee or tea and eyes are conspicuously awake
A turkey roast and sleep is suspiciously at stake

We are all but slaves of food
I conclude with fluctuating moods
There is food for romance
There is food for the fools
Enjoy, eat fast, food never lasts, rewind and preview
Hungry mouths elsewhere regularly wait for its rescue

Copyright 2009 - Sylvia Chidi

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2009

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