The god perches on a throne of bricks;
Behold a man’s body with a bull’s face.
Surrender presents to the ruler.
Outstretched arms will always reach for more.

A furnace forged of copper.
Jaw gaping, eyes radiating red,
maddening in anticipation of the meal.
Seven chambers in his chest feed air to the flames.

An archway exposes an opening into his belly;
Four stomachs are his true domain;
Rumen, reticulum, omasum, and abomasum.
Wet acidic bile traded for dry ashes and hot coals.

Greed chars the kiln.
He is never full; feed him.
He consumes all humanity,
and it still isn’t enough.

– Maxwell Bauman