Classical Gas

I have it all wrong. Classical allusions really do help invigorate a poem.

Classical Gas

Please excuse me for a minute; nature
calls like Hermes pleading with Calypso:
let Odysseus go! This spicy chili
runs right through my gut like Mercury of
Circus Maximus, whose sacred creature
was the chicken, not conniving burger
dressed with jalapenos. Next time I get
chicken soup or something from Poseidon’s
ocean: maybe tuna, maybe mako,
praying that he spares my world from earthquakes
now that he and great Athena called a
truce and made their chariot, which speaking
of, mine calls. Great Zeus, this chili’s heinous;
Gaia needs to flee from mad Uranus.

I apologize for such childishness. But I needed to prove a point.