Public Profile for SonuvBob

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Another day. The sun will rise.
The Voodoo-mouse is huge with child,
She looms above her minion mice,
Domestic, lab, or merely wild.

But Voodoo’s joy is not to last,
For Fate is but a fickle whore.
A beast unheard of in the past,
A headless fowl, a man’s repast,
Ran by and kicked her with its spur.

Two weeks have passed. She labors hard
And squeezes out her mousy brood.
They lay, unmoving, bloody, marred,
Their tiny eyes with death imbued.

Her babies lost, her hopes betrayed,
The Voodoo-mouse lays down a curse.
The chicken, boneless, butchered, flayed,
Inside a grocer’s freezer splayed,
Assembles in a way perverse.

Another day. The sun has fled,
And all the poultry run and hide,
For Voodoo-mouse brings doom and dread
With Frankenchicken at her side.

-defenestrate @ TL

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