Bard Breath?
 

O tempura, o customs! I have a need to write an apologetic poem, slightly amusing if possible, about the tragedy of a late 20th century halitosis of mine (now hopefully held at bay); which (lest anyone not be informed) can be caused by undiagnosed GERD [gastric esophageal reflux disorder], spicy food, weak oral hygiene (is it I? No!), excessively sated male longing (is it I? Hardly), archaic marihuana smog (well, hardly ever), and malicious GERD. Do I repeat myself ? Very well, I repeat myself. Yet I lack ideas on how to breathe life into this aspirational poem. Thoughts, o Eratosphere carbon-based life-forms? I don't know if I can manage this project without pathos, bathos, and nachos.

There once was a fellow named Tice
whose GERD meant his breath wasn't nice.
No lozenge could mask it,
though his friends all would ask it.
I don't know if this helps, but as usual with Allen I'm not quite sure what he's on about although I've read his original post twice.

Ogden Nash would be proud, Simon.

I've moved this to Drills & Amusements, Allen, to comply with the "no poems on GT" rule.

I hope you get more offerings... but Simon's Nashian one has set the bar quite high! ;)

Jayne

The answer was simple, some say:
Not I, by a year and a day.
A lozenge, although fragrant,
Would've made me more flagrant,
So sorry! -- But I've no GERD today!

There's no way to retrieve the past,
Or bring close the people I gassed.
My ignorance weren't bliss:
I'd've stolen a kiss,
Risking slaps as though I'd trespassed.

But that GERD kept me virginal, pure.
Not what I needed, yet there was a cure.
Impulse would've prevailed
Then -- and today I'd get jailed!
GERD's ways are amazing, for sure.

I’m sorry, this has worried me to death
for all these years, but now I have to say:
“I used to suffer badly with foul breath.”
(At last I’ve plucked the courage up, today!)

It’s not an easy thing to tell your friends –
for halitosis tends to be taboo,
but now it’s time for me to make amends:
"Apologies if I offended you."

The elephant that’s in the room has gone.
I’ve finally admitted that I stank.
It’s not a thing I want to dwell upon,
but every time I spoke the air turned rank.

A miracle – my breath’s no longer gross,
so from now on it’s safe to come quite close!

Jayne, very good. If you still or ever have had this product in the UK (it is or was a type of breath mint), you should exult that you could title your work 'The Sen-Sen Sonnet, No. 1'. I would want a title for my lumbering limerick triode, except that it isn't as sublime yet as I want my holy halitosis apology to be. Still beating my head against the shower curtain.

Thanks.

Damn stuff didn't seem able to make up its mind whether it was mint or liquorice.

Did it work? Does Listerine?

Work, I mean.
.

Your stench, which even makes your stalkers scatter,
gains privacy served on a silver platter.

FIAT
The thread expressing such positions
about your breath, your weird conditions,
unfortunately, should not expect
my acquiescence in the least respect!
.

Erik, methinks thy stinks requireth inks or twitter links.
Methinketh too that "maketh" do dance better than thy "makes" for rhythm's sakes.