by Gideon O. Burton
Lugubrious and patient as he slimes
His dark and viscous weight within my head.
He tugs his bitter taffy mass in crimes
Of pressured pain and dripping dread.
A hundred tissues bruised with blasting blows,
And yet he lingers, stranding strands of crust;
Gelatinous stalactites, grainy flow,
Replacing brains with miles of muck and must.
In sour thickness smears my throat and lungs,
His wiggling jelly clogs each passageway–
I cough up gooey golf balls on my tongue;
In rasping pleas my alveoli pray.
My phlegmy enemy, you shall not run:
With antihistamines I end your fun.
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