Steel blades in a dark
hole.
Food gets smushed.
Put your fingers in;
flip the switch.
Bones crunch. Flesh
grinds.
Smiling pain teeth;
push harder.
Make rut nubs for
your private.
Lotsa blood down the
drain.
Deep breath:
on your knees now.
Soaking a paper
towel. Just for
fun.
Images like this is what keeps the finger free to write good poems. Nice!
this is dark and very descriptive- really imaginative - great write
This is quite a scary poem, but its sort of my thing, beautifully written, with very vivid images. Great job. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dick Philips called it the hog Cause it et everything Bones and all Or jus a flush off the plates. Course if yo had a real hog It'd be more better cause You cud eat it in the end. s