by Gideon Burton
Enough. You've had three plates and it's enough.
A caravan of carbohydrates washed
in gravies, sauces, sloshing over puffs
of pastry; kilocalories accost
your system, pancreatic panic sends
along the lubricating insulin
outpaced by fresh eclairs stuffed end to end
as meats and buttered breads try to fit in
your gasping gastric track that chokes and squirms
accommodating seconds' seconds, thick
in naughty, knotty fats not making firm
your figure as desserts arrive in sucrose bricks.
Great bargain, endless courses till you cough;
Whatever -- oink your way back to the trough.
Photo: flickr - Librarian Avengers
Ah, but what a way to go.
ReplyDeleteOh, and this one was funny! Like you said you were going to do!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteAw dang, now it shows that I deleted it. Well, it's only because I misspelled a word and I couldn't have that tarnishing my record. Anyway, I love your sonnets. This one is especially funny
ReplyDeleteGastric track stuff. Ew. But you are handsome and funny and clever. I love you.
ReplyDeleteKilocalories. LOL. And ew.
ReplyDelete