Fascination with death evident in childhood, <br />you killed & preserved Fluffy & Muffin, <br />neighbors unaware of your pastime. <br />Did any of them ever look in your eyes - <br />cannibal eyes in a boy's face? <br />Surely they would have known your secret <br />but no-one wanted to look that deep; <br />beguiled by surface calm & diffident smile. <br /> <br />Living death a legacy, <br />child father to man you became <br />you made skeletons into <br />images of worship. <br /> <br />Did lovers hear dusty graves in your whispers? <br />Feel clammy clay in your caress? <br />How bitter your kisses as their lives ebbed away. <br />They never heard the hum of the Cuisinart <br />processing them into next week's meals, <br />never saw sightless heads in your fridge <br />awaiting more company... <br /> <br />Mr. Bones, were you always a mad scientist <br />cum Third Reich fugitive, <br />selecting victims with Aryan contempt, <br />suspecting they wouldn't be missed <br />& no one would look if their skins were dark, <br />families spoke with strange accents, <br />or sexuality wasn't officially approved? <br /> <br />As you chose victims with a predator's cunning, <br />you select your entree with precision: <br />remove a kidney from the fridge, <br />place it in a pan with onions & a touch of cream <br />& delicately, precisely, turn up the gas. <br /> <br />(Copyright Hugh Cobb revised 01/04/2005)<br /><br />Hugh Cobb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jeff-dahmer-his-danse-macabre/
