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Damien, when you are done nursing your wee little one with those pasty moobs of yours, perhaps you could regale us with some of your poetry. And I promise to give you nothing less than fair critical analysis of your work.
__________________
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Approach the mirrored reflection saying his name three times : "Butcher .... Butcher .... Butcher ....."
and wait to see if this Bogeyman urban legend manifests in the background, looming over shoulder
While your neighbors were busy killing off everyone in the neighborhood
with your own butcher knife in hand concealed behind your back
you stood for
ever before the window saying
nothing
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