I swallowed a skunk
Or maybe it was a word
A few seven-letter words
Consumed with four-letter gulps
Gusto gone awry
As this industrious funk
Willows from my throat
Encapsulating these
Hot, grimy, skunky words
You deflate under the noxious sounds
A pause, a breath, defective peristalsis
I’m just trying to tell you how I feel
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