This happened last Saturday. What can I say?
The Tension in Your Bowels
At Saturday’s Gathering of Poets
we found seats for “The Tension in your Vowels”
and my neighbor squinted, snickered, said
I thought it read “The Tension in Your Bowels”!
And I groaned reliving my colon odyssey
through a cocktail haze of
Demerol and God knows what else,
submarining through subterranean
streams, buoying along until
I surfaced as my neighbor hit
my arm with the workshop handout. Strange
how the mind seeks its own level.