STD 03

eZine lover (@eZine)

Published in 

STD

 · 26 Apr 2019

  

Writing - It's a Disease - Writing - It's a Disease - Writing - It's a Disease 
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ 
StrictlyúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúBy James Hetfield 
úúúúúúúúúTextúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú"The Hungry Men"úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú 
úúúúúúúúúúúúúúDistributionúúIssue Threeúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú 
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ 
Writing - It's a Disease - Writing - It's a Disease - Writing - It's a Disease 
         
        I 

We are the hungry men 
We are the stuffed men 
Sitting together 
Plates full with pasta. Alas! 
Our dried napkins, when 
we chew together 
Are quiet and meaningless 
As cream in dark coffee 
Or crying over spilled milk 
In our dry bakery 

Shape without form, shade without color, 
fallen bread, cakes without icing: 
Those who have crossed  
With fathomed eyes, to the bakery's other Kingdom 
Remember us - if at all - not as lost 
Violent bakers, but only  
As the hungry men 
The stuffed men. 
          
        II 

Donuts I dare not eat in dreams 
In Candyland's dream kingdom 
These do not appear:  
There, the bread is  
baked on a broken bread rack 
There, is a gumdrop swinging 
And sugar is 
In the pastry's filling 
More scrumptious and more sweet 
Than an apple pie. 

Let me be no nearer 
In Candyland's dream kingdom  
Let me also eat 
such deliberate desserts 
Ice Cream, Chocolate, Crossed Popsicles 
In a store 
Behaving as the bakery behaves 
No sweeter- 

Not that final meeting  
In the pastry kingdom 

        III 

This is the Bakery Land 
This is Candy Land 
Here the gingerbread images 
Are raised, here they reveive  
The reeces pieces of a worker's hand 
Under the smell of an apple pie. 

Is it like this 
In pastry's other kingdom 
Eating alone 
At the hour when we are 
munching with hunger pangs 
Lips that would kiss 
Form prayers to broken twinkies. 

        IV 

The eggs are not here 
There are no eggs here 
In this valley of dying poultry 
IN this hungry valley 
This half-eaten omlet of our lost chickens. 
In this last of eating places 
We gorge together 
And avoid speech 
Gathered on this plate of the china set 

Restless, unless 
The forks reappear 
As the perpetual pastry 
Multifoliate frosting rose 
Of sugar's twilight kingdom 
The hope only 
of empty calories. 

Here we go round the bakers square 
Bakers square bakers square 
Here we go round the bakers square 
At seven o'clock in the morning. 

Between the HoHos 
And the cupcakes 
Between the sno balls 
And the zingers 
Falls the twinkies 
                                    For thine is the King Pastry 

Between the cookies  
And the cakes 
All the sugars with sweet surprize; 
All the things I like to bake 
Falls the twinkies 
                                    Life is very sweet 

Between the apple pie 
And the pumpkin pie 
Between the cherry pie 
And the lemon meringue pie 
Between the key lime pie 
And the strawberry rhubarb pie 
Falls the twinkies 
                                    For thine is the King Pastry 

For Thine is 
Life is 
For Thine is Baklava 

This is the way the breakfast ends 
This is the way the breakfast ends 
This is the way the breakfast ends 
Not with a bang but a clogged artery. 

 
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[úúúúúúúúú3878 bytesúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú] 
[úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúThe Hungry Menúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú] 
[úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúBy James Hetfieldúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú] 
[úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú04/14/95úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú] 
[úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú] 
[        This poem was a parody of T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men"          ]