i'm sick of the stone in the shrub-
watching the birds nosh on the head
of the worms and leaving the arse
end in the mud -

revisiting the same hole only to lick at the blood -

would rather pull the dead up from below
(like someone I know)
and turn it over in the palm ---

but then there's shrieks and squawks for the remaining flock
of vultures, blind and frothing, clawing madly, madly, madly,

eager to shock.

this was written sometime last week.
Last edited by Jammydude44 at Nov 16, 2009,