Skullptures

Creative juices flowing

And it's graveyard raiding time again

Engulfed by darkness

Digging for my art

Which is my only friend

Stuffing in potato sacks

The ones that suit my special need

Burial was but in vain

They still come back with me

Hacksawing away at rigor mortified cadavers

Set aside the right limbs

To consruct my latest skullpture

Maggots into flies

They buzz before my eyes, breed in my hair

I turn my corpses into art

It is my life, nothing compares

The smell gets my mind in gear

Helps me decide which parts go where

Forearm sewed with stitches thick

Onto someone's sliced off dick

Woman's face removed with care

Still attached to scalp and hair

put it on my face and stare

And think of what comes next

Kneecap pried off with screwdriver nailed to foot

Decorated with toenails

Now I look at the pair of breasts I've severed

On my tray

Sew the two together

Flesh is brittle and grey

Another masterpiece is now complete

A mass of arms and legs and hands and feet

Stomach draped about drained of their bile

Skull atop the rotten sting pile