Sunday, June 22, 2014

suttungr vs the gods

Lo did Suttungr awake,
Near driven mad by the smell.
He lay facedown in a cowfield
His face puffy with drink, angry and hot
In a pillow of spew and cowshit. It
Was the dirtiest part of him
Besides his furs. The cows had come
Well past the noon of night
With their tongues out
To wash the cold off his
massive limbs. They had watched him
Stumble and retch, wrench himself
Out of the sky to lie groaning on grass
A giant wretch, near dead
With drink and in danger of
Waking up cold to the world.
He awoke among them
Well and truly licked by
Gifted beer and gifted mead,
Gifted too plentifully.
"Fuck,"
Said he. "I am hungover, verily.
Those motherfucking gods
Can really put 'em back."

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