Constipation Camp

with a hoseno one will ever find youThe smell of your carrion hangs low in the streetweeks of returning to relax in the meatButchery/morgue meets day-spa retreatThe smell of the carnagebegin the excretementChoice picked tidbits of ligamentsI mix for an afternoon sludge soupconstantly craving, needing to eat shitNo escape from this placelife condemned to rotpulpy ulcerous filamentsgagged snot and clots