Having not eaten sourdough bread for a few days, I really felt on Sunday that I had turned a corner. However, on Sunday evening I ended up drinking an excessive amount of quite strong tea at a local restaurant and I've not been the same since. I felt bad almost immediately and all of my GIT disturbances returned. Here I am on Tuesday night and I'm back to square one.
I need to quickly settle on a diet that agrees with me. Perhaps in the short term I should eschew coffee and tea altogether. Anyway, while I was in the belief that sourdough was culprit, I asked Gemini to compose a poem playing on words with "sourdough" being transposed to "doursough" and making use of the term "enteron" as a more poetic alternative to GIT or gastro-intestinal tract. Here is what is came up with in five quatrains with an a a b b rhyming scheme.
DOURSOUGH
“The baker's boast, a tangy treat,
A sourdough, so good to eat.
But in my enteron, a shift,
A three-week storm, a troubling gift.
No gentle breeze, no zephyr mild,
But something fierce, distinctly riled.
A heavy air, a troubled sigh,
As days and nights just drifted by.
No longer "sour," a change is due,
A moniker more stark and true.
Let trumpets sound, let voices call,
This bread henceforth is doursough all!
A "dour sough" through my inner space,
Disrupting comfort, time, and grace.
Though lauded for its wholesome claim,
For me, it played a different game.
So farewell, sourdough, so grand,
Hello, doursough, across the land
(of my own gut, at least you see),
A potent lesson learned by me!”
