A Broiler Nr F Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Food placed carefully inside our mouths, by our sharp teeth hits on particles; along tube walls swirl all, tumbling downward: packed into bagged pits, dissolving items with others, and tossed in a pot.

Treats that enter our bodies are captured inside gut tubes; under applied pressure, squeezed into cubes, placed with a set of digested factors, eaten: toxic concoctions mixed with acids, filling up spaces and forming lubes.

Once inside, cooking factors quickly in infusion, revolving portions, altering, releasing gases outwards, dissolving toxic properties, explode into a soup: evolving elements that run our system like a car.

We must make efforts to control what feeds into our bodies; state that's enough; cut back upon those trust items, bust those in ills that hurt: improve our lives, our health.

Yet at those times of discomfort, place goods over stuff, yell, eat things out, erupt a boiler delights, corrupt the whole system, disrupt the inner parts: free mire or a loud fart.