For a Burp

Steaming, sticky idillis
Four tiny ones
On my plate;
Laced misty thin
With chutney
And a hint of pungent mint

The supper
Of an apprentice
Is food enough for thought
You’re served
But token appeasement
The flatulence
Not the burp

Yet you choose
To skip the gravy
And save
On tea and coffee
You indulge
In salt and pepper
To stretch your serving
To a fill

Ah! For a spread
Of dinner…
For a full,
Delicious burp

You sink into
Your lumpy bed
And hear the bugs
Deep sigh
You shut your eyes
You dream your dreams
And tuck in idillis
In your sleep

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