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life, Nature, poetry, satire, Self-Help, wit,

The Last Supper

Fat cellulite everywhere,

not an inch have I lost from

anywhere.

Keto-Sheeto Vegan-Keegan

Omni-Carni, Raw-Thaw

tried and tried!!

Tasted every waters of

hot springs from the

blue coasts of Sardinia to

the sulphuric lakes of India.

Left & skipped the ever-flowing

ruby wines from the promised

golden grail.

Slayed butchered every lean-

turkey and the farm fed chicken

that came in that way,

cruelly snatched with my

bare hands the last golden egg

that popped from the Mother Hen

just to lay my hands on

that holy protein.

While the scornful Angus

blocked and locked horns

in the ivory door.

Dejected I tried my luck just

one more time and fasted

till the sultry noon which turned into

The Last Supper of the day!

13 thoughts on “The Last Supper”

    1. As I wrote it, I had an entire tomato pie to myself, feeling guilty later on. My chances of slimming down are zero to none 🧐

    1. This is a humorous take on my attempts to lose weight…. What better way than poetry!

    1. I’m glad you liked it, this poem written on lines of mock-epic narrates the tales my of weight loss journey… since I love food so much it’s indeed proving as arduous and laborious as trials of Hercules! As I wrote this epic poetry had entire tomato pie to myself 😑😑😑

      1. Lol, I know the feeling— and the struggle. I love my food too, and the two glasses of red wine with dinner doesn’t help 🙂

      2. My hands can’t control once in see carbs and starch but agree small portions!

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