Polenta (NaPo #24/30)

If others knew of my intentions, they'd say I was wasting a life,
But no need for strife,
I'll be using every part of the carcass,
Some skin for a belt, some hair for a paintbrush, and more skin for a canvas,
Meat for steak, and meatballs, and a bone flour polenta, plus!
 
Grind up your bones, into a course flour,
To make a thick, polenta, and I'll sing, as I'll cook with a joyful rancor.
The time during mixing and gelatin-ising,
As my appetite is rising,
Just thinking about that meal I'll be fixing!
 
Some ground corn (to mask the bone flavor), and herbs and spices I'll add (nothing spicy though),
I'll cook in my kitchen, solo,
No one near to fear the setting
Of what I would be doing,
And not just enjoy my cooking.
 
I'll invite all my family and friends,
To a meal that transcends.
We'll talk, and we'll laugh,
While the victim's family is writing the epitaph,
Not knowing, they're eating what was on the news, that stupid chaff.