A global heaving, emptying of guts
into a barf bowl
hastily chucked under chin just before the hurling.
Bowl now a-brim
with the swishing, sloshing, black-brown green of putridness.
Bits of flotsam
aswirl in the midst
with human limbs — frantic essay at scaling the nightmarish swells.
Will they surmount
the dire depths?
Will earth hurl again?
Will another wave descend?