Jewish-rye sup, then some bratwurst is arrivin’. . .
wash it down with sugared Manischewitz wine.
Peso netto, much prosecco; menudo in;
poundin’ down ground round in ounce lots, 25s.

(Jerky, pork, and lentils gorged inside)

Flamed s’mores, then game gorged; folks think that I’m mental
as I slather mustard on a cherry tarte.
Fress hot dogs with ease and jog to terroir—
after vino, moose that’s bloody/mousse that’s muddy.
Liquefaction in tummy—then attack!
I sense that barf is gonna loft and hit the mark.

That whole ewer wasn’t smart. . .fear repast brought up.

Retched gross meal up so that a whole passel escapes.
Food flight is fearsome as fine foie gras departs.
The Jewish rye settles in mire bower;
asparagus spears form shade there.
Rhinal writhing. . .redolent of sewer.
Gas from backside, a nasty complement, embarks.

Wheat germ ’n’ turkey, beans are causing me to fart.
Biting, smiting, flame-lighting weapon makes eyes smart.
As it went down it is coming up à la carte.
It appears that this will never end once it starts.
Departing tartes and farts mean smart folks won’t stay parked.

A final flourish: a chou-fleur/fish pâté parts.