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del-maximoPoems
mud from the cemetery everyday on his boots and clothing and everyday he'd wash the shovels muddy water like a river muddy red waters the graves are dug deep like a cliché six feet under too small for a back *** so down he jumps digging deeper from cemetery to cemetery in rain or by moonlight he works hard every night till his calluses bleed a muddy white truck and muddy wooden handled tools the perfect cover you'd think he worked there he scopes the obits looking for fresh funerals he prefers meat on the bones there's no profit in grave robbing no one is buried wearing valuables and there's no market for dead body parts he just likes the smell of formaldehyde the vacated looks on their faces and the occasional surprise when he finds one with open eyes
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Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 9:02 AM UTC
The Eyes Have It
mud from the cemetery everyday on his boots and clothing and everyday he'd wash the shovels muddy water like a river muddy red waters the graves are dug deep like a cliché six feet under too small for a back *** so down he jumps digging deeper from cemetery to cemetery in rain or by moonlight he works hard every night till his calluses bleed a muddy white truck and muddy wooden handled tools the perfect cover you'd think he worked there he scopes the obits looking for fresh funerals he prefers meat on the bones there's no profit in grave robbing no one is buried wearing valuables and there's no market for dead body parts he just likes the smell of formaldehyde the vacated looks on their faces and the occasional surprise when he finds one with open eyes
© October 12, 2010 Happy Halloween!
Written by
del-maximo
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 9:02 AM UTC
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