I'm resigned to mush, although I have hurled two “bites.”
I wince at the word; once was a chow hound, a lover of lunch—
now my nourishment’s creamed.
Slushy gruel degust and aerated, puffed egg whites.
My old body’s svelte; I ain’t eatin’ good; I’m told this advice.

“So, sift it very carefully ’n’
use your gums as a food screen. What I mean:
feed like a baleen.
You’ll get it down, and then you’ll cheer
and perhaps chase it with a beer. . .”
love that brew, fermented, fermented.

I'm inclined to mush; it’s like syrup almost, right?!
I’m learning to slurp; once was a chow hound, a lover of lunch.
[slurping sounds]

I sift it very carefully ’n’
use my gums as a food screen. A baleen
is how now I seem.
I get it down, chased with a beer,
then cheering that a toilet’s near
to pump brew that I had ingested.

Then it’s time to flush. . .all over the rim, bad sight:
all over the rim, prompting some disgust. ’ least I didn’t dump;
I’d not taken a dump.
Now time for a sump pump.

Gush!