Decision To Eat A Steak

Somewhere
Deep
Down
Inside
The self punishing son of a bitch in me
Has decided to cook and
Hastily eat
A one kilogram steak.

So I turn on the grill and
Wait for the little red safety light to turn
Off.
And when it does
And the fatty grease tray,
Which should be emptied,
Turns a dark
Shade of yellow,
I begin.

At first it seems like
This slice of Daisy the
Moo Cow
Will not
Fry
But eventually the edges
Start to turn
Brown.

So while I wait for it
To atleast allude to
Becoming edible
I begin to microwave the
Vegetables that will
Accompany this
Bovine behemoth.

Whilst watching a
Documentary on
Rock stars with
Crystal
Rock
Habits
I hear a sizzle and
Think beware colon
You’re next.

I have to squeeze the
Lump of
Meat in every direction
To get the beast to burn.
Then after twenty or so minutes
The pink has disappeared
Atleast on
The outside.
It’s done.

Chopping the first piece of
The giant grain fed thing up,
It disappears over the course of
Watching a noir movie where
Greytoned hipsters say
Groovy man, let’s dance, quite a
Bit. Then back
For more, more, more, more.

With something of a swollen jaw
And no more side dishes for
Distraction
It ends. I have devoured it
And slump back
To consider that
I am now
Officially
One
Percent
Beef.

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