Gut-Buster

Remember old Michael McDutt,

Who overindulged, so to glut.

For stuck in a regular rut,

He sat on his prodigious butt,

Refusing his intake to cut.

But Mister McDutt,

Like Jabba the Hutt,

His pants could not shut

Stretched over his gut.

.

With belly eclipsing his belt,

This sturdy one never was svelte.

Still every aroma he smelt

His diet resolve there would melt.

McDutt his own belly would pelt.

With bellyache ever he dwelt.

.

His elbows would bend with such skill

And shovel up morsels to fill.

Perhaps he abandoned free will,

But no single crumb did he spill.

.

To gobble up goodies he'd bray,

Each meal a Thanksgiving array

And every course a buffet.

His trousers a certain squeeze play.

I feel like McDutt on this day,

With stuffing and pumpkin soufflé.

For this hearty food holiday

Does lure my resistance away.

Tomorrow I may have to weigh,

But pass me the pie. Don't delay.

.

Note: Skeltonic verse has nothing to do with boniness or the skeleton. Instead, this form of poetry, attributed to 15^th century writer John Skelton, features irregular lines with multiple rhymes in free rhyming schemes.