10 December 2005 - in at the mouth

< yesterday -- tomorrow >

Lunch comes in at the mouth,
And weight goes onto the thighs,
And all we learned in our youth
Is hatred of exercise.
I lift my fork to my mouth,
While reaching for the fries.

clue:

Parody of a... lightweight poem by W.B. Yeats.

give me a clue so sweet and true

the Daily Whale || copyright 2005, 2024 Jay J.P. Scott <jay@satirist.org>