Underbelly

Soft, lardy rolls,

you were my life's work -

Oh the fun of it,

the guzzle and the gulp of it,

the sweet delight 

in the, swallow swallow, 

making of me.

The wallow, oh wallow,

in questionable excess

an acquired taste

Mother slobber and bite of hell hounds,

all hot breath and growls - go on -

devour me, devour me -  

those satanic dogs gnaw

on the entrails of their mother 

each morning, poor sin

if she can endure -  

I can, perhaps,

my lifetime of flatulence

and indigestion, preparation

for eternal discomfort

and anyway,

I always knew the shitty truth - 

what I would be reduced to,

like a good stock, 

gelatinous, unctuous,

go on, 

eat me, eat me  -

you know you want to.