Song of Soulzon:
Stinky, psychedelic,
Controlled rancidity,
With lagoons
Of dark green fungus
Amid putty dunes
Of butter-cream.
Unpasteurized
Sheep’s milk
Hits the tongue:
The fat
Dissolves, melts—
Potent drug
Bombs the mouth,
Streams between
The teeth (which
Crunch the calcium),
Barraging the roof.
When swallowed,
The hot fungus
Attacks throat
Epidermal cells,
A battle ensues,
Sniper-fire, ricochet
Artillery, Grenades,
Schrapnel, buckshot;
Parachutes drop
Tiny armed soldiers to
Attack the jugular,
Rainbow of heat
Swirls, cells scream,
“Anaphylaxis,”
Break the glass,
Pull the alarm,
Fire trucks arrive--
No water--
Burn like a sea
Of jellyfish
Stinging the throat,
Eyes crossing, streaming tears,
Vertigo, tunnel vision.
Coughing for Chateauneuf du Pape,
While ewes laugh-mock:
Lacaune, Manech and Basco-Béarnaise,
Angry for spilt milk,
Their teroir invaded;
Inflict woolly revenge
Of a thousand solar flare peppercorns
Aimed at the throat
Of anyone who
Dares
To taste it.
All hailThe King of Combalou!
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