Food and Loathing

Poetry

Photo by author

I had a cookie for lunch.
And suffered very much
from the assertion of taste.
Or maybe desire.
It was a short-lived romance.
Filled with regret and guilt.
If I had children,
I would disallow this
predisposition
to meal-replacement baked goods.
They would call me
a hypocrite. They would
probably hate me, too.
For other reasons.