Bring that water to boil one degree at a time
Over centuries. That ought to get me to cook.
I am fat, dumb and happy, but I tend to squeal
When I feel I’m not getting a fair and square deal.
You, the chef, satisfy me. I won’t take a look
At what’s happening to me. I’m feeling sublime.
Love the pills that you’re giving me? Maybe you should.
They are ripping my cells apart. My mind as well.
And they’re making you rich beyond anyone’s dreams.
I’m a pig in a blanket of filth, so it seems.
We, the three hundred million-fold, can’t seem to tell
If we’re being well-porked and if that’s to our good.
Does my better self-see things the way that I do?
Surely Not! It’s a view that it knows has no truth.
So, it’s up to my lesser self to find a way
To find positive aspects to brighten my day.
I prefer to be self-controlled and in my youth.
Although life can affect me, I’m not in its stew.