abdominal muscles clench and release
a warning of warmed saliva fills your mouth
a rancid metallic taste hits your tonsils
your stomach has just gone south
stinging puke tears stream from your eyes
contents of stomach burn base of throat
no matter how hard you direct this torrent
it always spatters your shoes and coat
a half digested expunged flood of lunch
hits the footpath and your pants
it didn't matter how far you leant over
you never had a chance
betrayed by a stomach that's given up
and can no longer hold all inside
a foul violent stream of spew is loosed
a regurgitated noxious tide
gazing into a fresh hot pile
of chewed then disgorged carrot pieces
kernels of forlorn corn cast out and reborn
that wont wind up with the peanuts in your faeces
spew dribble glazes your lips and cheeks
it sticks to your nose and chin
the taste of fresh death will eventually fade
and it's better out than in
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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Paralysis
She was there. Like she always had been, as if she were created immediately following the big bang. Waiting for him. Her long brown hair twisted and danced wildly in the lack of gravity. She was hauntingly beautiful, but her face was a look of terror and desperation. She mouthed wordless shouts, Ron only could assume she was yelling by the way the veins bulged in her neck.
By Jordan Flynn6 days ago in Fiction
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