Cuckoo Doodle-Do

Bradley basked in the glory at Krispy Kreme shop;
he said he would eat twenty-four donuts nonstop.
At one sitting, some coffee, one donut or two,
but ingesting two dozen?—Cuckoo Doodle-Do!.

So he started with raised, bit of frosting with glaze;
(overhead for some mood music played, Purple Haze.)
Perhaps someone who worked there thought Hendrix was fine;
yet to me overeating was crossing the line.

Gluttony, once before, he confessed was alive;
ice-cream sandwiches—he did admit twenty five.
Then he lowed as confection inside him like lead
forced him off of his feet and confined him to bed.

So now back to this stunt of the donut machine
in a carnival-like atmosphere at the Kreme.
Bradley gulped down a few, chocolate ice-covered cake;
I felt my stomach turn and it started to ache.

Did I notice a change in his corpulent face?
It was donut chain-stoking, although not apace.
I confess that it felt like my face hit the floor
when he acted like Oliver pleading for more.

Okay Brad, you had munched down a dozen or so
and I guess what remained was a part of the show.
Seems to me that last donut had brought you to tears;
was that jelly I saw oozing out of your ears?

Lots of fluffy white creme at the donuts’ demise;
(if you sneezed I kept my distance 'cause it was wise.)
I could see by the swell of your midsection chin
that the weight of your world were those donuts within.

You then blew out the candle, the twenty-fourth one;
(it was put there by one of the workers for fun.)
As you finished the last donut I heard a moan;
all bent over you were in a cramp of your own.

At the hospital wellness anon did occur;
‘twas the doctor who tended you who caused a stir.
When I told him the circumstance, he looked at you
and opined with a straight face, "Cuckoo Doodle-Do."


40 Lines
(Anapestic Tetrameter)
Writer’s Cramp
7-15-19