Biolodgy Poem by Dyllan Martin
Biolodgy
Poor lonely eyes,
Cold dead flesh,
Reminds me of my dear pet,
Steel, icy cold against my palm,
I can't do it,
I can't bear to tear it open,
I understand it's dead,
But look at it,
It has a heart,
And feelings (once)
It should be burried,
Not here,
Lay across the concrete lab bench,
Sick to my stomach,
Officially vegetarian.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 11:20:52 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
