THAT'S RIGHT BITCH, I WROTE ANOTHER POEM

poem 13

I looked inside a fallen log
and there there there
were 3 rows of perfect white baby teeth
digging into the soft wet wood
i reached and pulled
scratching my clumsy fingers
on their sharp edges
filling the log with blood

meanwhile kittens sniffed daffodils in the glen

you danced with the swans
and i petted the damp greasy fur
of squeaking rats
their delicate paws
and curved yellow claws
their aquiline jaws
all ripping the flesh
from my legs