After they celebrated

Swedish Christmas

with all the goodies like

meat balls, herring in wine

sauce, and so many

anchovies

in olive oil,

salty, smoked roe,

luscious Lutfisk,

potato sausage and

jellied head cheese,

and after he had guzzled

too much Glug,

his wife looked at his

pitiful mug.

With pain so great in his

already sprained left

ankle,

he said if there

was saving grace,

it was that he passed

on the hot sauce mackerel,

(like that act would save

him). He plaintively moaned 

and seemingly solicited divine

intervention and admitted

that he certainly over-did it.

He said he should have left

the pig’s snout out 

(like that

would have done the trick),

because he was now suffering

from an excruciating

case of gout.

So his wife, with kindness in

her voice, said, “Put your leg

up, dear,

and I’ll take the dog out.

Don’t give it a thought

or worry

your sorry mug;

I’ll be sure to

drink the rest of the Glug.”