Desecration No More Room In The Freezer
Plastic sheets cover the cold tiled room. The deceased
layed out, split from neck to naval. Anthropophagic
butcher of culinary skills, alone in his kitchen,
clenching blood stained tools. In a refrigerator packed
with carnal delights lay shrink wrapped stumps, putrid
sights. Bowls of human fricasee and headcheese slops
sealed with clingfilm, beginning to rot. Blood and grease
dribble through the racks, splashing jarred cunts
swimming in brine, lodged tight. As the oberrative chef
hacks through the night. Pickled penis, finger snacks,
head in a cake, offal in packs, minced intestine, severed
limbs, assorted organs kept in tins.
