Chocolate explosions mark the Gluttonous
Tummy chub. There are days dedicated to the Sloth,
Where rejuvenation is paramount. As for Wrath,
Laser points brow center at men who cross my Pride.
Boots, bags and cardies fluster the Greedy
Monster. Subtle as steam, my steeping Lust.
The lewd minx effuses Lust.
What ravenous serpent couldn’t resist sed Gluttonous
Indulgence. My she was Greedy,
Feigning the frigid Sloth.
This caught your eye, hooked your Pride
Unleashed my Wrath.
The smoldering, bubbling, molten Wrath,
Erogenous, as Freud’s ID. Lust,
For your mother, your brother, your friend’s Pride.
Never dishonored, always placated. As a flag, Gluttonous
In its ability to morph from Sloth
To silk. Oh, Greedy
Commodity. Society defined by Greedy
Commodity. Corkskrew and Wrath
Acknowledges emptiness in things. A Sloth
Needs but munch and snooze. Our Lust
For glitz oozes bloody glitter. We’ve become so Gluttonous
As to thirst for that scorching sap. Blind as our Pride,
Would permit. That unremitting Pride
Undergirds all conscious thought. Slop, knee-deep and
Greedy,
Hungry, thirsty, horny, Gluttonous,
Insatiable desire. Energy can never be destroyed by Wrath
Nor converted by Lust.
Only repressed, sublimated by Sloth.
You are the Sloth.
Your Pride
Will be your demise. Never let Lust
Conquer love. Lest you feed that Greedy
Monster. And ignite it’s Wrath.
You are at heart, Gluttonous.
As am I. I Lust to Sloth
In Gluttonous Stupor. My Pride
And Greedy Wrath will Envy
no one.
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