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Grody to the Max

Oh, how I dread the horrid sight of that nasty slop, what a wretched plight. Its stench invades my twitching nose I turn away, but my nausea grows. Forced to face it on my plate My stomach cramps over the goo I hate. To those who claim to love this dish To me, it’s like a putrid fish. An oozy texture, oh so gross. As if it’s covered in a host of slimy, squirming bloated worms. I feel my skin covered by germs. And as I take a hesitant bite I can’t help but gag with all my might. The taste, I fear, is truly foul. My tainted tongue—it screams and howls It’s like a mix of rotten eggs and moldy cheese, my tummy begs for me to stop and never try this mush again, I’d rather die. But still, I drive myself to chew and swallow it down instead of spew. My body rejects it and cannot take this mush that makes my insides ache. So please spare me from this “food” That I find so vile and crude. I’ll stick to what I know is right And flush this gunk down the toilet tonight. *I wrote this poem on January 9, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 9 and the prompt was: Describe a food you dislike in as much disgusting detail as possible. I chose to not reveal the food but to let your wicked imagination run wild (and the description wasn’t as gross as I could have gone, but it was as gross as I was going to take it).

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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