Once hunger’s new it joins them all like thirst and smoke and lust for flesh.

My new hunger grew and grew and of them all it was the best.

They took me to a final chair, they set me down and left me there,

and I knew I would carry on the hunger I had left to spare.

God had spoke with children handing paddle penance laced with nails.

He pointed out the next to take my implements of tastes and Hell.

There was a man who used my hands: now and then and in the day.

He is from bronze land and has six children, and a wife that went away.

She never served the pot roast raw, now kiddies could have bloody lips,

and as she’d felt his heart unthaw she turned away and gave the slip.

Men came in no matter what, so they paid a fine dollar for what I’d sell,

And then the little ones to holler and cinch my place in a little hell.

Poked and prodding deep inside the points can never dig enough.

From needles to a scissored hide- but I paid him well he weren’t so tough.

Daddy was a great granddaddy, sailed on seas of tonic ordure,

When he died she took this laddie and dumped him on the foundling’s moor.

There I met the seething simmer the brain inside my cracking egg

I could see them lights ashimmer with whipping post that was my leg.

They dropped me out on a boy’s lap: to taste and drink and chew his waste.

We pump and slap until we’re pink and hissing at a leather face.

The whole family was a spiral, a mucus draining gargle sound.

I could see them in the gyro dancing pain in burning ground.

Ham and Eggs is what they named me, but my skin’s not been to eat.

I wonder if I took the same me from back then would he taste so sweet?