Glutton’s Punishment


In whichever Circle, the gluttons

Feast on both themselves and nothing,

Are chewed and gulped and spat

And starve. And there’s you, squat

By the table side, squandering

No time on sickly undoing

The bird before you, torn to flays

Of former flesh. Rapt in throes

Of flavoured relish, you fatly feast

Until the belly’s fit to unfasten,

Belt-tight, swell-sore, gut-rotten

Weight of the food: makes you a glutton

Glorying in unpleasantness, love

For a glutton’s punishment.


When some people “pig out,” they really go for it. 


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