schlachthof

Go & Fuck yourself ...
take all your love
and shove it down my throat,
then eat my liver.
{ everything is synthesized }
{ there was never anything }

and still,
        still!,
40 Million Butterflies
are stolen by 40 thieves.

Meat cleaver hands
on ham hock arms
silently begrudge the company ...

I make confessions to the knife,
so that, on its edge,
they can be split - those decent,
        and (enjoyably)
                those indecent.
But the knife is afraid
(the silly beast!)
of my throat.