The ideas to some would verse on the loathsome depravity
of humanity. But in my line of work what can I say there are lines,
fetishizes that even a calm exterior camouflages within
the proportioned exterior. But where the concept ferments on
there conceptions what if I could just once.

I had spun a myth that you could call for the latter fake news,
that to partake on those still exhaling life while feeding
upon them could in essence harvest their youthful years.
and to an amazement this was perceived as truth of word.
But I didn't mind, feeding dark fantasies was justice enough

I would move around in a covered lorry, it was quite
the thing to see not like a slaughter house on wheels more
a bistro, if you can envision it black reflective tiles where
the meat would be  cut. "yes they liked to watch their food.
but I had organized it so it was easy to dispose of evidence.

Admittance to ones own errors in judgement is ones first step
to learning. I had invited a select few to see how it would play out.
You could never quite tell, I had vetted them of course before hand.
Seeing if their fear would procreate to me being an jumpsuit lackey
of the orange tint variety. But my faith in humanity was resorted.

For I had taken precautions these tables were rigged,
what you think I'm just a cook? I was in university years of
wasted youth, but I learnt much. Knowing the foundations of
what I was doing, lets just say they'd be static if I were betrayed.
And for good luck, my beautiful little lady slept under the counter.

They watched in admiration for my art, asking the questions
of "was it alive. I had left a drainage hole for the blood to
seep warm to a holding bowl. Some had versed that they
wanted not only to taste, but drink upon this special occasion.
So they to gorged on life's rose bouquet and adored its tasting.

What I hadn't perceived was that to keep them static of
motion was not a wise choosing. They say to much of
something is a good thing, they weren't joking.
The blood had to much sedative in it, luckily all had slumbered
on there drive home.The coriner had a busy night.
But all had tweeted its success before become as dead as lunch.

This time it was different, I just created a gag to muffle, but to
also verse the whimpering murmurs of there ill begotten pleas.
Did they not think if they were this deep in the rabbit hole?
There was no way of digging themselves out of this..
But people liked the noise while eating there meal.
                                                                   "silence is death,

The only way it would end would per say, once I broke down.
sights not meant to be seen, murmurs escaping there captivity.
Nearly happened once, "ONCE, is enough  the mechanic
finished fixing my engine "Dam spark plug, but as he
wondered on to next appointment in life. A silly notion
of my ignorance, bumps loosen bonds, and voices loosen
to the sound of another's presence.
"What was that, "hello are you ok, "Sir what's going on,
Last words not befitting, now I have two meals to prepare.
Luckily a local to the place now a missing poster somewhere.

I travel this country of mine, meals on wheels of a different
kind, giving those of unique human traits there just taste.
If I wasn't doing it others would have and not in my good
taste. Do you know they say that the flesh taste like chicken?
To those who follow me, they think it extend there finite
moment on the rock hurtling to oblivion some day.

Me, I just enjoy my skills, cooking is life, you are what
you eat. So if you have a strange friend who invites you
to a once in a lifetime meal, be careful for those of squeamish
inclination will only see this once for if I sense there needing
to snap-chat.. to food **** my creations on social media.
horrified by the unique blending of my creations.
Think for one moment? is this other really your friend!!
Or do they wish to partake on your flesh, a delicate aroma
of your live being drunk upon.. they smile as you fade.