Have Gum Will Not Travel

Have Gum; Will Not Travel Forget it! I am not going five thousand miles just To be bored and homesick. No. And what am I supposed to do there, besides go broke? What am I supposed to be looking at anyway? Why must I take another banal photo at the Eiffel Tower, With stupid me jumping into the air there like some fool Who should know better? Paris is filthy! And everyone is mean. Just like the people and places back home. No! I will not Spend ten hours on a cramped jet filled with sneezing nostrils, One or two of which could be terrorists just waiting to strike, Ready to hijack the plane and drive it murderously into something made of indestructible steel, While my nervous stomach knots up with gaseous explosions, Ready to strike the air at any moment, worst than any terrorist contraption imaginable. No! Forget it. Why would I want to travel to some other country, Just to be constantly miserable and exhausted all the time? “Okay, there is Westminster Abbey, and oh, there’s the Thames River floating on by! Wow! Now what do we do? Should we get a bite to eat? And then maybe go back to the hotel and sleep? I am dead!” Then early the next day we must catch a cramped train to Rome, Where the people are crazy, just like the people back home, “Okay, this is gnarly.” My diarrhea is a cross between black oil and kerosene. Why am I taking this picture, another typical shot in front of the Leaning Tower? Am I doing this to put on social media to show my phony friends What a fabulous time I am having?! Why of course. I didn’t spend thousands of dollars, and endure all this misery, Not to show off my wonderful times in Europe; Truly a status symbol I treasure with all my heart, But detested with all my soul in acquiring it.