Bob The Belly
Lately, I’ve begun to call my belly Bob.
Wherever I go, along hallways, up and down staircases, huffing to the beat, Bob leads the way.
He’s been with me for years, Bob has.
So much so, that it’s hard to imagine life without him.
And when at last I should come to life’s end, Bob will poke the coffin lid open.
Screaming, “Nope, not yet!”
Needless to say, Bob didn’t come by this life of mine easily.
And won’t leave without a good, knockdown fight.
Hell, I earned this belly of mine.
©2022 Will Mayo All rights reserved.
Will Mayo is the author of Dreams Of Mongolia, Hoodoo Voodoo, The Shells Encasing Our Nothingness, Bone Talking, and other books of the extraordinary. He lives with his six-toed black cat in Frederick, Maryland, said by some to be the most haunted city in the state. Most of his writing is done between the hours of 3 a.m. and sunrise. He enjoys wordplay and strange tales, and hopes you do too.
This is a good humorous poem. I liked the conversational nature of the lines and the line breaks.