This is the first of three pieces I will be posting over three days, I’ve picked the order at random. I’ve decided to stop indenting lines as WordPress has issues translating these properly to the screen; I’ve also found the HTML tags get wrecked when the post is viewed on a iPhone. Unfortunately this means I lose some of the visual effect and forced pauses, I may try to print and scan as explained by one of my readers (thank you Frank.)

Photo credit Peter Lippmann "Nobel Rot"
Photo credit Peter Lippmann
“Nobel Rot”



There was a time
when in the morning you brought
platters of miracles
broke bread with me
and ate from the soft part
one bite at a time

Wrapped leftovers in linen,
hid them in a kitchen drawer

The next day
shook off the ants
rubbed green away and
brought me crumb in bed

Your cohort, codependency
masked as grapes, figs
seeds of pomegranate
carried on platters to my pillow
whereupon I rubbed dreary eyes
and in a stupor ate from your hands
gladly licked sticky fingertips
manicured talons

There was a time

I was a figment of your intellect
repurposed flesh
obese subject of your manufactured affection
a glutton of your sycophants
who ate gloriously

8 Comments on “Gluttony

  1. gluttony – isn’t this one of the seven deadly sins?
    i can certainly feel the emotion between the lines – as if one knows the sins are being conducted.

  2. First, great poem (and posted on a great day) Though, Dante might shake his head at those Gluttons. Second-I like this piece because the pictures are mind blowing. First,. the breaking and eating the soft parts of bread and then hiding leftovers inside linen. Next, taking off the mold and then feeding it to you. This line says quite a bit, almost as if the hand that fed you, did not want to.

    1. Thank you for delving so deep into it, you hit it right on the head; I was also playing with the idea of the subject as a glutton for punishment and co-dependency of the hand feeding him. So in a way the two characters fed each-other’s dependencies.

      If that makes any sense

  3. I am really enjoying the imagery in your poems, John. The words take on the substance of everything you describe. Reading them becomes a sensate experience translating meaning in the most visceral way. I actually feel this one in my stomach and nethers…the seats of will and passion.

    1. You and my other readers are far too kind, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but know that I truly appreciate the intelligent comments. It’s pretty amazing to know that I have affected people in some way.

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