I Love a Gal With Brains
by michael cahill
You judge the blood and drool upon my cape,
and find me unromantic as I squeal.
I lick the gore from fingertips; you gape.
You're sickened by my pleasure and my zeal.
What's ill to you is natural to me.
You bring your sweet a lov'ly bright bouquet.
I slurp her eyeballs--gastronomic glee!
(There's passion in my grim grotesque ballet.)
Twas earlier I saw this maiden sweet,
and vowed to woo her just like any man.
I'd treat her as more than a meal to eat.
At least that's how my master plan began.
Her lips were soft, but I could smell her brain.
My hunger made me act most inhumane
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