She noticed his love for liver
And his love for steak rare
Liver for gritty iron flavor
Steak rare for red flesh fair
He'd never eaten a body
Never sated human flesh
Yet he fancied the fantasy
And liked raw things best

III

A Wizard stumbled on a sea

a sea froze by Winter's lung,

blowing all Winter long.

Beneath the ice, decayed

it was a great giant Whale,

as dead as a giant doornail.

The Wizard swallowed him whole

and coughed him up into a bowl

of warm creamy oatmeal.

Inside he writhed, simply alive,

revived, he was, of all his death

the whole oats returned life's breath.

"The sea is not your home, Whale"

The Wizard then kindly said:

"A giant tank was where you were bred."

Looking the Whale in the eye, he continued:

"I will place you here, my friend, instead..."

and he stuffed him into his library head.

The little green Goblin
Shrouded in rust red
Creeping in my garden
Reviving what is dead.
It sparks my tongue
Pulls it tightly out
My fingers are numb
After tugging it about.
Blood hot, it rushes,
Lungs heaving hard
The sound of vocals
Incoherent, yet sharp.
Breath hard, let go
Confidence in my ears
Drip hot from the soul
Penetrate wet fears.

Inside our secret confidence
Within the safety of self
We formulate words so false,
so tediously regulated,
to hide our endless faults.

But should we be found out,
Our illusions be shattered
The self-images scattered.
Social homage to live without,
Respect of friends floundered.

To us then, who tightly conceal
Reality from the brining truth,
“Abandon your games of youth!”
By breaking the terrified seal
That quiets a conscious mute.