avarice

taurus moon beckons me toward the garden of earthly delights

very indulgent

lucky me!

food and drink and art and oration and pleasure and medication

I was built for ancient symposium

there are, of course, side effects of varying degrees

and sometimes consequences for my gluttony

still, I consume and consume

absolutely dancing around the bonfire

full on idolatrous hedonist

I totally get what eve saw in that apple

until suddenly

food has spoiled

drink turned

art is drowned in pretense

oration becomes pedantic and drab

pleasure curdles into overstimulation

my medicator shifts to an illusion of satiety

and I wake up, thoroughly poisoned

somehow I never see it coming

I never yield

confusing the absence of my unrelenting hunger

with being fed

and afterward

despite bearing the crushing weight of my new body

im still fucking hungry