everyone wants a piece of it. it's freshly prepared with layers of corporate shares, indulged with lashings of hefty profits, savoured in supply and demand and baked at a very high temperature. the pie is not always served hot. some get a large share, while others barely bite the crust. however, it tastes so good that we all just want more. we'll insist upon a large portion if we can get, our appetites unquenched and pleasure-seeking. we'll eat our fill until we're stomached and sickened, distasted and desiring but still wanting more of that rub-a-dub-grub.
in excess, an appetite of progressive lust. my pie is my dinner, my share, rationed in unequal portions. i'm happy as long as i have my piece of that pie.