His name was Bread <br />he carried with him <br />Butter and Swiss cheese. <br />Bread went and led <br />simsalabim <br />the way into the squeeze <br /> <br />of masticators, tuff and strong <br />moved on and sideways now <br />drenched by the fellow ptyalin <br />air movements sing a song <br />and then facilitate, oh wow, <br />the slip-slide down into the bin. <br /> <br />A portal, Cardia, opens quick <br />to let them pass to get their bath <br />in acid of some potency. <br />They churn and turn, though looking sick <br />and if you should recall your math <br />the ph was what set them free. <br /> <br />On to the place where Enzyme lingers <br />for further treatment to condition <br />and break their will now and deflate <br />inside the town that's named Twelfefingers <br />they are a novel, fresh addition <br />but got here just a trifle late. <br /> <br />So with a burble and a hiss <br />into the upper Gut they fly <br />then slowly make their way at night <br />by instinct and much hit and miss <br />not being timid, dumb or shy <br />and somehow it all ends alright. <br /> <br />But if you're here to study art <br />at the far end of a long tract <br />just keep your ears inside the grass <br />I tell you now that each small fart <br />that reaches you, still quite intact <br />is a digestive from an ass.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/journey-of-a-cheese-sandwich/
