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The Garbage Disposal Cometh

"Prior to plopping into the vast waste pipe, countless first grind up." -- the scraps of flesh on the scraped plate * * * Oh, dear, I fear the blade in the disposal ate my thumb -- ooh! -- somewhat que*r I feel I fear, my fingers turning numb -- oh, no, I see the blade has merely sliced and diced my hand -- with but an arm; a shoulder; and each milk-producing gland; the skintight Bunnie 46 quadruple D-size cups; the baby twins; the littered puss; and all the family pups; one pregnant belly; two intestines (fifteen feet in length); eleven jars of sour dills (plus pickle juice for strength); together with the baby-making thighs as well as hips; plus countless stretch marks; loose vag*na; v*ginal stretched lips; veins varicose; knees bent to please a one-inch, thin-sliced meat; ten polished toes; one kitchen neat; and these bared feet dead beat . . . * * * a dedication of Respect for the Pain of billions presently in the disposal being severed slow a revolving helios rhyme menippean satire on natalism -- an ideology generally held by those who have yet to experience the blade february, 2023 -- the mommy-to-be full flipping on the meat grinder