Cold Medicine
The devil’s festering viscous urinetrickle,
A decaying mucusy bile like rancid rot
Lingering mercilessly on my helpless tongue for eras after,
Unholy, this flavor, exist it should not.
Created by man or beast, I’m uncertain
But skeptical that the miserable thing was of this Earth
A harmless looking cap of mucky demon’s blood
Satan, watching me gag, writhes in mirth.