deepundergroundpoetry.com

CHEF

As I walk these frigid caverns
The dead call to me
� � preserve the flesh
� � wrapped in plastic
Stripped down to the bone
Await the funeral pyres

� � apply deft touch
� � the chopping block
My artistic brush
Coats the meat with herbal butter
� � behold fresh kills
� � daily in hell

What culinary delicacies tickles your fancy
Frog legs and the eye of newt
Inside my witches' brew
As I gather the slaughtered with my necromancy
Bat wings and black widow webs
Adder's fork for the dead

I slam the cleaver thru meat
Breaking thru the bones
� � ripping the sinew
� � reveling in flesh
Human vermin will
Feast upon my creation

� � mash the nightshade
� � into a paste
A smiggen of brine
Then a pinch of sacred black gold
� � ladle the brew
� � onto the spuds

So tell me

What culinary delicacies tickles your fancy
Frog legs and the eye of newt
Inside my witches' brew
As I gather the slaughtered with my necromancy
Bat wings and black widow webs
Adder's fork for the dead

Dust the malus with muscovado
And canella
Then place the concoction inside the
sarcophagus
And cover the pauper's grave with strips
then glaze with
Dead baby chickens

BAKE AT 375
F O R �F I F T Y �U N H O L Y �M I N U T E S

so let me ask you one more time

What culinary delicacies tickles your fancy
Frog legs and the eye of newt
Inside my witches' brew
As I gather the slaughtered with my necromancy
Bat wings and black widow webs
Adder's fork for the dead

I hope you enjoy
because
Because
BECAUSE
Your flesh is up next