Eating Left Overs on a New Year’s Night
KARL WALLACE
Taw’s a New Year’s night but I just couldn’t sleep, I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep. The leftovers beckoned, the deserts and horsd’ouevres I fought the temptation, with all of my might. Tossing and turning with anticipation that night.
The thought of a snack became infatuation. So I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door, I gazed in the fridge full of goodies galore. I gobbled up turkey, potatoes, beans and more The cranberries were dripping down my chin.
Staining my night gown, as I ate some more, I chomped on dressing, gobbled down a fowl’s thigh Dribbled a few grapes, devoured more pumpkin pie, Had another sandwich, gave my dog one as well, Continuing on with more late-night desserts.
Suddenly! I felt myself swelling, so plump and so round Until all of a sudden, I rose off the ground As I crashed through the ceiling, I screeched “Pass, the cranberries, the lobsters too,” My stomach was definitely letting me know
When the stuffing is tasty, a gizzard is plump, Potatoes and gravy have nary a lump, The yams delicious, go ahead and eat All the tasty treats on any New Year's day, But for goodness sake, Not After Nine PM!
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