For this entry we go back a couple of months to a little Dr. Seuss-inspired massterpiece of pooetry.

Twas a near-perfect day in the Land of Nice Smells
Among flowers and honey the people would dwell
The scent of fresh cookies came in with the swells
But something was stirring in the Land of Nice Smells.

Like so many others in the Land of Nice Smells
Here is a girl, let’s call her Michelle
She can’t tell just why, but she doesn’t feel well
Yes, something is grumbling inside of Michelle.

“How could this be? My gut feels like hell!”
Poor little girl by the name of Michelle.
Allow me a minute or two, and I’ll tell
What’s stirring and grumbling in the Land of Nice Smells.

You see, with Michelle, that far too much fiber
Or garlic or beans or legumes provide her
With the sense that some force now fights to divide her
As something quite rotten starts growing inside her.

Inside the stomach I churn and I boil
Mixed with the food that’s started to spoil
Down through intestines I twist and I coil
Her face now expresses her inner turmoil.

Now I’ve never really claimed to be much of a thinker
But in the Land of Nice Smells, the posies are pinker
The minks are much minker, the ink is just… inker.
Nothing bad happens, nobody’s a drinker.
But dammit, it seems I will will be quite the stinker
Down through the colon and out through the sphincter.