This pathway is doubly dangerous
That one who cuts my stitches
A tad too short
Is the same who reaches
Carelessly too close
To that dreadful corona mortis
God’s own anatomical variant
A beautiful but fearful anastomosis
A marriage of a sweet obturator
And a rather inferior epigastric
My ultimate dream
Is to broach and to ream
That sweet canal
So I ignore that fire
Set on my path
I size up the breadth and girth
Of a choice that was never fair
Whatever it takes, I swear
I won’t stumble into oblivion
Neither will I sway into varus
Until my tools are packed
And my destination reached
Mine will be a glorious tale
With an ending marked
By an exaltation of larks
Hands steady as a rock
Eyes keen as a hawk
I fear neither the dark nor the cold
I will push and I will reach
For that prize of gold
My heart will sing
When I restore with my knife
So never ever forget my name
For this will not be my last dance
In this dark pelvis of life!
Calculate deduct deduce infer
Kiss the pigs until you’re sure
Let’s pretend I matter
Let’s pretend I’m dipped in batter
Equitable distribby
Puttin on the bibby
Let’s pretend I matter
Let’s pretend I’m dipped in batter
Accounting for naught
Without having fought
Let’s pretend I matter
Let’s pretend I’m dipped in batter
Matter I might
Batter-dipped that’s right
But one thing seems true
I’ll wind up in you
Ground-up gristle
Simmer bubble steam
A little oil please
Your culinary dream
Out of the pan
And into your department
Now I’m a bolus
In your compartment
Epigastric me
Satisfied you
Rich old you
Rich and true
Toilet-bound me
Nutty little me
Please flush me
But don’t forget me
Let’s pretend I matter
Let’s pretend I’m dipped in batter
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.