"Human remains in a beaker and tray and coffee pot. Bones which were being partly macerated, dissolved, in a margarine container which had engine coolant in it. It smelled very awful."
Striking up my discordant underture
A carnal cacophony perversely penned
Transposed... and decomposed
On strings fashioned from human twine
Lovingly wound and fretted upon my bow
Garishly incarcerated... the dead resonate
In a final death-throe
Vibrant as I thresh
Movements scripted for the dead
Orchestral horrors I vehemently conduct
My corpus concertos cordial
Disinterred... and detuned
With six feet below
In harmony with the deceased
My inspiration... your disintegration
For my latest masterpiece
My scope creeps your flesh
Notes seep from sinewy frets
But don't hold your breath
As you wait for your god or the void
Or the abyss of nothingness
Your usefulness isn't through
Your productivity I resume
My sorbid, soiled handicrafts
Will be your afterlife's handicap
My corrupt crescendos
Will leave you out on a limbo
Your disposition I unleash
You will rest in my piece
With deadly dynamics
You're dead, buried and barred
Your remains dampened and fingered
Your mortal coil is barbed
The death-bells are peeling
Ringing out as you flake
Shrieking out their recitals
A celebration of your wake
Enter my funereality
My world two metres under
A curious habitat
Your muddy trench I plunder
Pass on to ethereality
Churned out under the sextant's blade
You live your life in wretchedness
And death is no escape
