Bimbo's natty nails plucked out his heart,
Flung it on the chopping block,
Diced it, salted it and kneaded it like dough
Which they threw into a sock
That waited by the prey's side
To sound chimes of her clock.
On second thought, nails picked up
The heart cubes
Marinated them in lemon juice
That spilled on boobs
Of the woman
Who often travelled in tubes.
Nails cast the heart pieces
Into a sizzling pot
That welcomed them
And undid the knot
Joining Bimbo to him
To complete her plot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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