‘Bring me a fig!
A fig!’ - she cried,
‘I long to feel a fig in my inside,
Sliding through my digestive tract.
Eating is such a wanton act.
Bring me a hot fried
Chinese spring roll!
I need it to fulfil my soul.
Some sweet and sour sauce wouldn’t go amiss...
Mmh! Delicious! Heaven! Bliss!
A feast! A feast!
I must have food!’
She was taught as a child
That it was rude
To leave any food upon her plate,
And so, she ate, and ate, and ate.
‘Eat to live -
If I don’t I will die.
Pass me a sausage.
Oh, and that last bit of pie.
Goodbye!'
Copyright © 2012 Lena Fiagbe. All rights reserved
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