The Smut - Mar 25,26

I sense here some things sinister—a scent of sulphur, sulking in a sultry pit; a serpent’s hiss, expressed from space unlit; a warm spell spilling from some seething vent; I find now some things filthy—foul ferment foaming, frothing; a gaseous, gurgling slit discharging fetid, festering, sour spit; malignant mold in cold, cracking cement; So languid, loath, obtuse I trepidate on into the black bowels of my home. Gagging back a nausea’s tepid bubble, shivering a shudder that won’t abate, discover I a gory catacomb.— Woah… I see well now how bad my trouble!