nanki - the scanblog
Thursday, October 07, 2004
 

Posted by Hello
Comments:
My instestines collect in a worm shaped blob
An nutrients must pass through them
for me to grow
Yes the blob is unsightly, horrific
and i will not let it be me
no matter the costs, no matter the pain

The blob starts to move
but I don't feel it inching
toward the reeking steak on the counter
its rotting flesh swimming with maggots
but it goes as it must go to make me happy
I watch and want to be far removed
but I am there
with each surge of life the blob moves to
its prey and I am there
wincing, covering my eyes, protecting my heart,
i am there.

It has almost reaching the pungeant was-flesh
of the dead cow meat
The maggots observe the procession and slow
their swimming and feeding as if the
king was marching down a mideaval street
maggot families turn to the blob and smile
little maggots smiles those cheeky smiles
and i can't be present to this farce
No i will not, but I am there no matter
the strength of my will, no matter
my desire for compassion in the world

The blob is there and he is consuming the liquidy, mushy, horror of the steak that was flesh
Maggots do backstrokes in that selfsame was-flesh
families on holiday
eating what shoudl never have died
The blob leads the carnage and bloats
blows up big as the source

The steak flesh or was-flesh is now imbibed
within the blob that is not me
I am blue and withered watching the spectacle
I know the blob rests only for a moment
There is always more rancidity to savor
and I, like always, will be there
I will be there
I will be...there
 
Which goes to show, dear readers that when it comes to intestinal obsession, no-one does it better than a Californian.

God Bless America.
 
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