Who's Crying Now?

My truculent poem transformed itself, with a slurp and a flourish, into a tapeworm; my tum was filled with small gnaws whenever I thought about it, and I was forced to abandon it with considerable groaning. But! Now the eater becomes the eaten; I will descend upon it with intense creature violence and cannibalize it for parts; I will redouble my igor and make a new man. Onward and inward, little tapeworm. Onward and inward.