Oh Stomach
Oh stomach
sick and churning,
stomach of night,
stomach of morning,
stomach of round and flat
and curved,
stomach of warning,
stomach of nerves.
How long will you gurgle and keep me awake?
How long until you throw up your chips
and refuse what I bake?
You’ve digested it all.
radishes,
chocolate,
tofu
and pie.
You’ve served me well,
but it’s you I defy.
Stomach of youth
and middle age
when will I listen
to all that you say?
Stomach of Thanksgiving
and Easter’s gone by,
Christmas
and cranberry
and stuffing piled high.
For so many years,
I’ve kept it all coming.
You gave me fair warning
with belches and gas,
but I wouldn’t hear it,
I said it would pass.
And so I kept eating
and eating
my fill,
all the while knowing
you’d give up,
your will.
It’s Russian roulette,
minus the gun.
Sooner or later
something will come
that will finally end
all that you’ve done.
And I will have nothing
but plastic insides
and long for the day
when I could hear your faint cries.
But you will be gone,
stuck in a glass,
for students to study
in some medical class.
And I will have nothing
but my memory of food.
Oh stomach,
please tell me,
why didn’t I listen to you?
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
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