A Hot Sauce called Death

A hot sauce death that comes with 

a warning label

do not eat without dilution

as man 

with several beers in him

I take no notice

of mere mortals

splashing the sauce 

all over my quinoa

and free range chicken breast

900 times hotter than a jalapeno 

I laughed

until it hit my stomach

hell’s hottest inferno unleashed

spending the subsequent hour

praying to a porcelain god

don’t fear the reaper

fear ultra death sauce.



James Lilley from Swansea, Wales is a father of three who works as engineer. He has had work published in numerous publications since first submitting in August 2020. Won Versifications Punk of the Year 2020 and has poetry book The Blue Hour due for publication by Close To The Bone in Jan’21. He his a retired professional boxer and active MMA and BKB fighter.

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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