Having dinner with some cannibal friends

There are eyes that bite the bodies
and hands that are useful and common
Can you pass me that plate?

everything is done honestly and in a digestive way
everything is brutal instinct and exceptional faith
Do you want a piece of this roast?

everything is a grimace asking for salvation
a redemption and authorization charge
I don't eat metal, a cloud eater, a sort of a sleeper!

a constant feeling of equivocation
a displeasure in the grinding of teeth
I feel like I belong to the lowest caste of bees!

Sadness is once again a form of transcendence
like molecular food and corn porridge
lower my head and see the crumbs on my legs!

I urgently need dental floss
and run to the bathroom and vomit my soul out.