What happens when the divine device fit to confine to safety the mice of this unmeek world breaks down
When life jackets cause drowning
Some bear spines, poison-slick spikes
Spicy food made so to spite predators
Protective shields in lieu of venom
Humans develop a taste for spice, what then?
Their gift comes a curse
Unearthly hurt Scovilles urge in virgin tongues
Which urgently-drunk bulk milk purges
No end to human taste for spice
They increase heat, to culinary delight
Forced, evolutionarily, to think on their feet
Make it so one dies if they’re eaten
One or ten enough to kill several men
Despite going lengths to cleanse them of toxic element, spice remains inesculent
Such indelible brands it impresses on hands
Tongues of unwary thrill chasers
First bracing, next fatal
Tongues fry, electrified criminals, at a thimbleful
Sweating scorpion fire pepper’s acrid, sting-lacquered skin scorching spine
Guts engorged, blood-hued digestive gravy forced through every available bore
As spills through smashed portholes when ships sink inks out his mouth, snout and backaround
Meat flyblown after eaters die.
Alchemisland 
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