Three Line Lunch: Purge of the Martian Hailstones

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 195

Purge of the Martian Hailstones

Last night: Drank epsom salts dissolved in hot water, chased by dab of honey on pinky.
One hour later: Downed equal parts olive oil and grapefruit juice — shaken, not stirred.
This morning: I passed dozens of squishy little mud-green gallstones, fruit of my cleanse.