You cannot comprehend
the raising nature
of salty pretzels
having empty solitary.
A casting of a wand
burning of thick fur,
a factory that minces
blood spills on the lands.
Lollies from a stranger,
saints are ******* devils,
ruin sowings of residents
A hang out in the diner.
Where they whisper & conspire
to spill out all your guts.
Feast on belly tasty fats,
A quietness of sickness.
Talks of lopping chicken heads
from one whose a hitchhiker....
About to spill my cravings,
living is flesh upon dying,
expired  to dead tissue.