I tried to get up from the table
Tried to leave the feast that others have relished
Where I got only scraps
And those the fetid rinds and cut-away fat
Cooled to a sticking, quivering glob
That I was supposed to suck down with glee
Before I quoted Oliver Twist
And I have never much liked Dickens
But when I rose
I got stuck with the bill
And I pay on it as I can
Though it grows more quickly than the stomachs
That bloat as they gorge yet
While the table creaks and groans
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