five

No and then that one night walks full round from twelve to three
Irreverent the sickening delight on satin sheets
On the four poster bed flows blood from cut opened
Pigs throats and legs chopped off in pieces scattered around
Sharply cut all over the place wherever you look rooms full
In slaughterhouse number five the crusade of buried piglets

It’s really true but then not here in reality the chimeras
At night the moon falls naked glimmering through the rigid fog
The body that looks like him shakes quivers it trembles
He who snores in the last steam of the vomit vapor
His bilious fat belly puked with hot scrapple vomit
The poison of grain gin outside of rude wild and gripping reach

Am becoming nauseous of the reflection of the ghostly images dive
Through that god forgotten grim and brooding doom dream
A glimpse in the depths of the depraved soul of the dark
Chamber of the longing for containers full of plutonium and
Tears of loss unleash weapons of mass destruction that
Are strewn across the earth and set ablaze the whole bunch

Such is the way it goes
More or less

Let us wish
Live for less