Not so much the belly of the beast
as the dingy clogged arteries
somewhere deep in some limb
lifeblood not really flowing
so much as trickling
I bite into my sandwich
bacon fat boomerangs my face
back towards thick Texas toast
Grease creeping
escaping the corners of my mouth
heating up the cavern
to just shy of burning
uncomfortable, but I haven’t yet
lost sensation
I swig from my coffee
not enough mocha
far from enough cream
and smaller than usual
but I’m trying to cut back
cutting out life’s little pleasures
so I might not enjoy them
a little bit longer
The corridor is musty
Weirdly wet where on building
transitions to another
But the solitude
is warm.