Stewed Heart

My heart ought to be eaten

By a swine lord

For it is tough and bland

Sinewy and fibrous

From years of hemming and hawing

Flexing and recoiling

Now, it is fit only for strong, gnarly teeth

If you are a man of the gentler variety

Perhaps you might want to stew it

Cook for 36 hours to tenderize stiffen muscles

It will taste better and melt like butter

As soon as it meets your tongue

I sit too long

I think too much

I feel too little

Cut me open, and eat me now

So I can be closer to God.

Confounding Conditions