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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
Copyright ©
James Starkey Iii
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