MacBelchA Poem by CThe second in my anthology of poems about the the little but important things in the life of a slovenly student. This installment is a lament about a particularly magnificent burp.Oh
sweet belch that cometh from the depths of my gizzard, And
springeth forth from my lips with a pungency so glorious. King
of kings, lord of lords, Whose
rattle and roar makes meek the mightiest of lions and quakes the boots of the
fiercest warrior. Such
a din, not unlike the deep crack of thunder. It
shaketh my chest with its raw power. Now
it rents the air, ever dissipating, Until
it is no more, a mere mark on the annals of history, But
forever in my heart it stays, burned, An eternal hallmark in the very fabric of
my being. Oh
how I rue that I had but moments in which to bask, To
relish in foolish pride and cherish that which passes so brusquely. Though
now it seems I mourn, I rest on my laurels and ponder, When
once again I may encounter, That most beautiful of things. © 2013 CReviews
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