My gut looms under my skin,
My gut zooms, eating a hart* wholly--
I eat not mere parts; when I start, there's no stopping me.
My gut moves--sunders my din.

To fried dough I will give in;
I'm sated on elk; to sea fare--now I will go for whelk.
The fries I won't try to resist. . .those baby clams coldly shelled,
Then my gut looms under my skin.

I've snacking vice, gorging on cream that's iced,
Those goods baked, oh, bring them near, dear,
The spiced buns are warming, moist and come with fried rice,
Which I'll eat, this treat, now and here.

Oh, spoon roe--dribbled drool!--from cans, freshly tinned.
Booze 'fore I start to feast: shake up some dry martins!
So before I chew, gust+ this hot-off stew,
Taste hyssop** that's poured in the gin.
Then my gut booms--thunder within.


* male deer
+ taste, savor (Scottish)
** aromatic herb used as a flavoring agent in gin