most meals
are simply consumed
in the foolish need
to remain
among the living

basic things
of
necessity

there is nothing
as sad
as a bachelor meal
of bland
robotic repetition

some nights

i would prefer
to be dead
than rattle my chains
as a shade
of someone real

existing
is a poor showing
of existence
when the mark left
is empty
instant noodle packs
in the overflowing trash heap
of life