Drink It Down.

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on July 22, 2011 0 Comments

Drink it down,
Mother said,

it’s good
for the bowels;

it’ll stop you
feeling bunged up

and unable to shit.
The spoonful

tasted foul,
it clung

to your tongue
like black glue,

your stomach

to your lips;
your eyes to water

and slid
slowly down

your throat
like a slippery snake,

and Mother saying,
like some baying hound,

don’t pull such a face,
it’ll do you good,

it’s not poison you know.
You gave her a smile

and closed your eyes,
wondering if this how

a sick man feels
when he dies.

About the Author ()

A man who seeks truth and friendship and hopes for abetter world.

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