I will drown you in fox blood.
My dogs will take to your heel
and fell you like a desperate
kit - tear you in bites, rend you
into mash. The Savages.
We will leave you, your face down
bubbling as you breathe out
as the blood mixes with snow
to find a new shade of pink.
Five and four and three and two,
it is now four thirty on
Friday. You have planned this well.
As I will now leave knowing
the last words you say to me:
'I hope you have a good day.'
Look how polite we are now.
About the Creator
G. Douglas Kerr
I am a hermit and sometimes come out of my shell.
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