From a writing prompt in which we had to start a poem with the phrase "Perhaps it was the clams".

Perhaps It Was The Clams

Perhaps it was the clams
That filled my stomach to bursting
Roiling, boiling, churning and turning
I thought I’d die
I wanted to die
But I wanted to live
To show those clams
That they didn’t own me
Couldn’t control me
I retched, bowing before the porcelain god
I’d survive this, I said
I’d show those clams
Blinking stood up
I’d been reborn
Perhaps it was the clams