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    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

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