O Belly Band
Though you cling to me
In a perpetual hug
You are in reality
A royal pain in the ass.
Tight as you must remain
You nonetheless roll up
More to support
My protesting ribs
Than my post-operative belly,
And continually impede
My wish to avoid the washing
Of more laundry.
I suffer each minute
The impatient anticipation
Of the day you are
Permanently removed
And I am able to slouch
In comfortable repose.
But I know you must hug me
For six more weeks
Else I suffer the painful result
Of your absence.
Only that keeps me
From flinging you
Across the room
And stomping you into dust
In gleeful satisfaction.
Oh, my, sounds so miserable but necessay. You gave me a smile, not at your misfortune but at what you will do with that thing when you're finished with it. Heal quickly, Rebecca.
That's one way to get rid of a pain in the ass… Write a poem about it.
I've always wondered why Buddha was so happy with a belly like that. Probably because during Buddha's day, only the very powerful and wealthy would put on weight like that.
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I've always wondered why Buddha was so happy with a belly like that. Probably because during Buddha's day, only the very powerful and wealthy would put on weight like that.
Ron