MOUTH WATERING

Oh what feathers on that meat
What beak it rocks
What comb it flags
What legs it models
Whatever lies beneath those feathers
Are like future chewables
Calling hidden saliva
To assemble on tongue grounds
Its foundation structures like unbreakables
Waiting to be subdued by teeth grinders
Whatever occasion will call for this
Will be my friend and murder ally
A feast it will be
A mighty feast it shall be
A delicious feast of fowlhood it has to be
What a cock!
Wait a minute
Is that how death is salivating
Upon watching my movements?

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