Lick the fish,

It burns the throat,

To those who wish

To hide in gloat

Roll the rocks

Flick the fire

To those in the box

Who get no higher

Bite your lips

Say hello

to fingertips

down below

Suck the mustard

off my fingers

Salty, sour, sick

It lingers

Taste it.

Sip it.

Spit it out.

Try it.

Bite it.

Cry it out.

Wring it out until it's


Shout it out.

Burn it out.

You're supposed to like it.

Don't you fight it.

Here it comes in

pools of doubt.

It will shout (oh forget it) shit it out.

you're supposed to like it

get it out.

get it out.

Fish and fire are without a doubt

something sick to write about.

A/N: Just to clarify, this poem is about sexual coercion.