Different Still Indifferent

Stuffed with indifference,

You play out your days

Like the rest of the sated:

Sluggish, contemptful of movement,

Barely breathing with the heaviness of fulness.

Then you swallow hard

Another morsel down to the hole of your bowels,

It passes, the stone, the dread stillness,

You feel hungry again,

You move forward to dine again.

Saltless but satisfying,

You take another bite,

Then another, then another,

They pass through you like air through a tunnel

But different, still indifferent.

You try throwing it up,

You try gagging yourself,

Laughing out the terrible carelessness,

Flush it out, toss it out, forget it;

Nothing works.

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