It’s a Beach at Midnight

Imagining calories count less in the dark,
he snacks throughout the night continually.
He wiggle-walks across the sand to park
his BMI’s (yes, plural) by the sea.
He would splash in, were fear of pleurisy
less in his thoughts. A box of doughnuts jam
the milkshakes in the thermos near the ham
beneath the turkey biscuits in his hamper.
I am, he thinks, the people that I am.
I shall leave it to these thin sand fleas to scamper.

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