|
I eat dead infants |
|
Disintered from the womb |
|
Of the dead pregnant |
|
Stretching, the womb widely abroad |
|
Displaying her insides |
|
I examine the abdomen in |
|
Search of a meal to eat. |
|
Tepid Celioparacenthetic sludge |
|
Emulsifies my throat |
|
Grappled from chains, I rip |
|
From groin to gullet |
|
Divesting multed flesh, while |
|
Stripping the innards |
|
From this dripping infant |
|
I rip off the head |
|
Strip it of flesh |
|
Disarticulate the limbs |
|
Then dismember this mess |
|
With nails only I finger it's torso |
|
Disemboweling this pile of slop |
|
I begin to gorge on viscera |
|
Vein and melena |
|
Bleeding profusely, |
|
This feast doesn't stop. |
|
Pulverizing this stillborn's |
|
Home for nine months |
|
My throat fills as I begin to retch |
|
Disgorging pulp of |
|
These fetal remnants |
|
I lie soaking in a pool of stench. |
