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My stomach's like a rumbling pit
     That any moment may explode.
My stomach's like a roiling pot
     That's holding way too big a load.
My stomach's like Vesuvius;
     It will erupt--and soon, I feel
My stomach's very mad at me
     For wolfing down a five-pound meal.

Soon on the sofa I'll lie down.
     I feel on me a hundred eyes
Of others shocked by what I ate.
     My lowered head my shame descries.

Oh, fix an Alka Seltzer now
     And bring it to me. Please be quick
Because this birthday of my life,
     I've stuffed myself and am so sick.


February 24, 2020

entered in Richard Lamoureau's  Warning Poetry Contest


The poem is a parody of the following poem.



                  A Birthday
     By Christina Rossetti 1830–1894 

    My heart is like a singing bird 
       Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; 
    My heart is like an apple-tree 
       Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; 
    My heart is like a rainbow shell 
       That paddles in a halcyon sea; 
    My heart is gladder than all these 
       Because my love is come to me. 

    Raise me a dais of silk and down; 
       Hang it with vair and purple dyes; 
    Carve it in doves and pomegranates, 
       And peacocks with a hundred eyes; 
    Work it in gold and silver grapes, 
       In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; 
    Because the birthday of my life 
       Is come, my love is come to me.

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