The particles of his pancreas

abandoned him for good

like drunken frat brothers

who left a freshman pledge

dunked in a garbage can

filled with ice water.

The celebrants in his gut,

alpha, beta, delta, gamma

and even epsilon

were no longer turning on

pretty polypeptides.

Once they sailed past

the Islets of Langerhans,

he watched his body

get thrown to sharks

who licked their chops.

But his soul lit the way

to a familiar nurturing

berth of tranquility.

In the skin of a new life

there was no need

for him to eat or sleep,

all he had to do was be.