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deadlightsgirlAn Ode To Stomach Acid
From the depths of hell, you rise
Like a thousand tiny knives boiled in rancid honey.
There is no defense.
What have I done? Did I forget to invite Eris to a party
(because soon the acid will reach my pineal gland)?
The fault is none but mine – well, that and the wings I had for lunch. Having virtually no dinner helps not at all.
The acid is like Hitler. It overpowers all.
Tomorrow there will be pain
Like a small alien in tap shoes will burst its way out of my chest
(it will sing highlights from Shenandoah, adding insult to injury).
Tonight there is only the boiling sickly-sweet pit of bile
Which, by the way, is very STUPID bile
In the way it does not differentiate between happy adrenaline
And the other kind.
From the depths of hell, you rise
Like a thousand tiny knives boiled in rancid honey.
There is no defense.
What have I done? Did I forget to invite Eris to a party
(because soon the acid will reach my pineal gland)?
The fault is none but mine – well, that and the wings I had for lunch. Having virtually no dinner helps not at all.
The acid is like Hitler. It overpowers all.
Tomorrow there will be pain
Like a small alien in tap shoes will burst its way out of my chest
(it will sing highlights from Shenandoah, adding insult to injury).
Tonight there is only the boiling sickly-sweet pit of bile
Which, by the way, is very STUPID bile
In the way it does not differentiate between happy adrenaline
And the other kind.
