Ode to a Bathtub
by Londis Carpenter
My bathtub is a sea on which I float
my birthday toy, a brightly colored boat.
Upon this sea I sail with motley crew,
a gruffer gang of tars you never knew.
We steal treasures, wrest from the cannon’s roar,
or buried loot captured in days of yore.
We sail the briny sea — without chagrin —
as killer whales and fish with dorsal fin.
Rough men are these, from which I try to hide
a queasiness my tummy feels inside.
No sea-sick captain would they ever let
take them to battle from a fecal set.
My stomach growls; I struggle not to fart…
Enter my mom; she squeals aloud, “Eek shart!”
