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What's For Dinner
poem and art by Jennifer Jenkins
Thick hunger pastes my lips to quarreled gums;
banded pride stretched silent takes it's task
of steak tossed at my service line to pound
for pound I beat tinseled into thread;
sewn string to seethe like maggots on the tongue.
Seasoned flecks veil welts from after kill,
so tempts the sopped up open minded
Mister with a blister for a belly
that cries for more infectious bile to fill
his promise offered with saucy stench.
Slapped hard on tole, slit for foolish mercy,
slid to broil, door cracked to taunt escape,
blood splatter curses caught, turn into ashes.
Smoke seeks detection from eyes aloft.
Tossed and tabled you've been served, well done.
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