Writhe In Putressence
This is the way your life ends:

On a slab in my basement

Perplexed by your loss of limbs

And wondering where your face went

Inside my den

Random pieces of corpses hanging

Traces of bloodshed and musculomanglings osseous tissue, carpals and phalanges

A reek so dense

The steam that emanates from your breath is evident of condensed pheromones excreted by death

Post-mortal flatulations

Tissue gas from fermentation


Writhing in putrescence

Oh, the agony!

Your lover, caged atop my stove

Helplessly observing your dismemberment

Inhaling the fumes of human methane

With heat on high

Simmering and cooked alive

Life is hard as an anthropophagi in such conditions as this:

After infection sets in

Intact homeostasis by saline and plasma

Spastically writhing in putridity

Carefully placed slabs of concrete become a vice

Organs and fluid exit your mouth and eyes

A complete peristalsis of the systems

Mucosal throbbing of every pleura

Venous, serous, menstrual-basted in pus

In blood and pus, we writhe