Stink My Death
'Stink my death till I smell bad, '
the Man to the rest of It said,
'Unflesh me with care and consume all the hair
that falls from the skin of my head, pale head,
the thin pallid skin of my head.
'Let me squat in this apologia,
stuff my gullet with humus and air,
for I've raped that fair maiden, fair Gaea,
and I don't even seem to care. Me care?
No, I don't even seem to care.
'I have eaten my fill of biota,
and I've bent all the rest to my will.
I have sung from a pyre of industrial fire,
but my urges are adamant still to kill.
Yes, my urges are adamant still.
'So if you should need me tomorrow,
with appropriate changes, of course,
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