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Nectar.

My Pepsi-Coca-Cola-Cherry Floats
A nectar fit alone for Titan throats,
For even Cyclops cannot bear their roar
of juicy gastric acids any more.

They smell of burning sulfur boiling hot;
Compared to them, Vesuvius fizzes not.
An unattentive sip can scald for years,
With yelps of pain the tongue and palate sears.

When avalanching down an iron throat,
With fiery ire they form a burning coat
Of fiercely acid ulcerating sludge.
That whips the small intestine into fudge.

My Pepsi-Coca-Cola-Cherry Floats
A nectar fit alone for Titan throats,
For even Cyclops cannot bear their roar
of juicy gastric acids any more.

This playful poem came to me one morning when I was between projects at work. Shakespeare's iambic pentameter made the phrases come easier. Rhyming them was more difficult. The topic was completely random, although I had probably had drunk a Coke on an empty stomach a little while earlier.




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