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Literature Text
Shall I compare thee to a nice buffet?
Thou art more tasty and nutritious
I like to fry the skin that I do flay
Your cartilage, crunchy and delicious
Verily, delectable's the taste
Of marrow sucked from leg bones I do break
A diner's fine food only lasts 'til late
Doggy bags are only good for a day
But my scrumptious, thy shelf life shall not fade
Thy lean meat shall a fine jerky create
Thy fat's a preserving marinade
With silken tongue, a pickle I shall make
So long as flesh of man can serve to please
I shall use thy corpse for gastronomy
Thou art more tasty and nutritious
I like to fry the skin that I do flay
Your cartilage, crunchy and delicious
Verily, delectable's the taste
Of marrow sucked from leg bones I do break
A diner's fine food only lasts 'til late
Doggy bags are only good for a day
But my scrumptious, thy shelf life shall not fade
Thy lean meat shall a fine jerky create
Thy fat's a preserving marinade
With silken tongue, a pickle I shall make
So long as flesh of man can serve to please
I shall use thy corpse for gastronomy
Literature
A Mildly Gruesome Tale
When I read a book on neurology,
There were some things it didnt explain,
So, upon a whim, I decided
To purchase a human brain.
In a somewhat shady alley
Was a shady man with shady shades
Who sold me a fine and fresh specimen,
Plus a curious clamp and some oddly-shaped blades.
I snuck home with it in my jacket,
Which now has an unusual stain,
And placed on my desk, with great care,
Three hundred quid's worth of brain.
I held it in place with the curious clamp
And plunged straight into grey matter;
I wish I had put some newspaper down
I didnt expect so much splatter.
I admired the basal ganglia,
The colliculu
Literature
Cannibal
Help me please,
I am down on blood red knees,
I must claw,
I must bite,
I fell like I have to fight.
Spill their blood,
Drink it all,
Tear out their hearts and crush their skulls.
Crying red tinted tears,
Saying sorry all the way.
I have to devour them,
Bones, skin, flesh and all.
Never stopping,
When stomachs near popping,
I puke them up and start again.
I have swords,
I have no guns,
Only my teeth and bloodied hands.
I keep killing them,
Cant stop murdering them,
Every woman, man, and child.
Tearing through her,
Ripping through him,
I have gone beyond wild.
I dont want this,
I can&
Literature
The Massacre
A trail of red follows the man
Who drags a piece of limp
A bag of eyes are watching
The massacre; the bereavement of an innocent
A hanging in a store
The backroom scented with demise
A laceration, unfathomable
Carved into the flesh
A bare mass of muscle
Skin the swine, he said
A pool of life
It need not be, he said
A customer, gleeful and grinning
Takes a package, vacuum-packed
A butcher, blade still in hand;
'That'll be fifty-six ninety'
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Comments43
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I dare someone to say this during a Shakespeare play. I dare someone. Like Romeo and Juliet, only instead of talking about her beauty, Romeo takes her by the hand, says this and then pulls out some salt and a napkin.