With A Hose

No One Will Ever Find You

The Smell Of Your Carrion Hangs Low In The Street

Weeks Of Returning To Relax In The Meat

Butchery/morgue Meets Day-spa Retreat

The Smell Of The Carnage

Begin The Excretement

Choice Picked Tidbits Of Ligaments

I Mix For An Afternoon Sludge Soup

Constantly Craving, Needing To Eat Shit

No Escape From This Place

Life Condemned To Rot

Pulpy Ulcerous Filaments

Gagged Snot And Clots