an ode to a kidney stone

 you are edgy

and O so pale

like a communion wafer

gone cold and stale…

I have nightmares about a Grecian Urn…somewhere in the deep recesses of dreamland, tucked away for a fit-filled night, lies a canister of dark cinematic Hell from the epitome of bad poetry. Not even  “Ode To A Ball of String Cheese” can top the throes of despair one encounters from this rancid tale of imaginary dancing nymphs. To put it bluntly, I would rather snort sweet tart dust than endure such drivel. “Ode to A Grecian Urn” ranks right up there with “Afternoon Delight” and Leonard Nimoy’s voice on “Ballad of Bilbo Baggins,” crushingly painful. And like the stabbing pains of a kidney stone, such bad poetry deserves to be flushed to points unknown…

…but ere I feel your stabbing pain

I’ll be off to use the toilet again

and so I feel that this shall pass

like flatulence amidst a class…

they’ll hear me scream

they’ll hear me roar

but not before I hit the floor

and though it sting and though it burn

at least it’s not “A Grecian Urn.”