Hotel buffet blues 

At the start of every day

I say

I’m going to be a vegetarian. 

But then one sweaty Sunday

A hotel buffet calls,

Rows of striped bacon, fluffy eggs

And spongey sausages which flutter 

Down my gullet…

I saunter up for a third helping

Delights piled high on the plate,

A leaning tower of meaty Pisa.

Let’s stuff ourselves to the brim

More so now than we’ve ever done 

Because it’s free of course,

Gotta get that dollar’s worth

Even though the bacon fat

Will choke our hearts. 

Thirteen glasses of orange juice 

And a bucket of coffee later

I’m nauseatingly full.

With a ketchup-stained mouth

And greasy fingers

I swear not to do it again

Hotel buffets are a blessing and a curse

For those with never-ending stomachs.