Member Poem

Act 1: At the Everything Cafe

Norman’s stomach (churning with distress)
It’s a pleasure to see you devouring each piece
of your pizza. But me? It has way too much grease.

Zippy’s stomach
When you leave out the crust, my tubes send less blood.
Everything in me drops down with a thud. 

Norman’s stomach (spewing acid)
I attempted my best to digest that thick dough,
but it gave me a yellowish nuclear glow.

Zippy’s stomach
As you left half your pizza behind, I felt hollow
as a gut with a gullet unable to swallow.

Norman’s stomach
I’m so full, I can feel myself rubbing my friends:
my liver and pancreas. Time for a cleanse!

Zippy’s stomach
I’m never distressed. My lining is steel.
No garbage disposal on earth has such zeal.

Act 2: In Zippy’s Living Room

Norman’s stomach (responding to voice on phone)
There is zero wholewheat in your “whole”-wheat crust.
Refined carbohydrates would turn me to dust.

Zippy’s stomach (rumbling)
Have pity on me! I am empty and waiting
for something to fill me, my pangs not abating.

Norman’s stomach
OK, we’ll have Indian dishes instead.
They’ve got spinach, potatoes, and wholegrain flatbread.

Zippy’s stomach
Great! Cardboard and grass. It’ll cost twice the money.
And do not blame me if your vomit is runny.

Act 3: At the Local Co-op

Norman’s stomach (At the deli, scanning the menu)
“Gluten-free pizza” — the very best kind.
The crust’s made of cauliflower. What a great find!

Zippy’s stomach (gives Norman a hug)
You won’t even need your antacids for that,
and you’d make enough enzymes to break down the fat.

Norman’s stomach (starts breaking down the food)
My upper part starts to relax and embrace
the chewed food like a well-oiled car in a race.

Zippy’s stomach
I’d never have thought that a fiber-filled crust
could so heat up my peptides yet will not combust.

Norman’s stomach
I’m churning and churning, food turning and turning
as smooth as a smoothie assuaging my yearning.

Zippy’s stomach
My innards ripple, bubble, and bob
as my marvelous muscles delight in their job.

Norman’s stomach
At last, I’m absorbing the pie in totality,
imparting a feeling of seeming normality.

Zippy’s stomach
At last, we’re digesting our pizza in sync.
As we both start to shrink, I feel a strong link.