What a shock!
My mouth instead of Malfoy’s.
Nothing to see
Except for the slugs rippling from
My throat.
Soft like a worm
Mud brown
Then that glistening slime.
Little snail
The bird has stolen your shell.
Your mouths grope open
Sucking me.
Straight from my guts
I vomit.
Clutching my stomach
Of churning bile. A disaster vile.
Out of my lips
Thirty slugs do fall
Brown shirts all
Whose side are they on?
Not mine.
Oh Wizardry, I am sick
Call Flitwick, have him flick
Away these foul
Black icicles.
Gamekeeper,
Giant of a man,
The swill in your
Bucket was not my plan.
Hermione,
Tarnished by gross
Insult, looks on concerned
With Parisian grace
Over my
Discomfort.
How you squirm
Slithering eel.
Benign worm.
Sly slug.
Hexed! by Equinox Chick
Story Notes:
This poem was written for the Copycat Challenge in Poetry, Anyone, over at the Mugglenet fan fiction beta boards. We had to write a poem in the style of a famous poet and include five key words.
I chose Sylvia Plath's Cut! as the basis for this poem. I strongly suggest you check out the original.
~~~