A face looks so carnivorous
From the nostrils down:
An open, ravenous trap,
Half full or half empty
Gleaming with ivory shears
And threatened sharpness
Of incisors clicking.

I fear it's raging hungers, this face;
It looks ghastly unkind
With tearing, strong molars,
An impertinent softness of tongue lurking
Concealing the violence till the last instant
While delicately testing
The perfect temperature of warm blood.

Who says humans
Don't eat their young;
Things sometimes happen in the dark,
Late of night, things you'd never catch in daylight-
Why do some never have children at all;
Perhaps they became too fond of newborn flesh,
Delicate as the palest veal-calf of the restaurant.

And it only looks human
When you add in some eyes.