Amazing, reality bending stories
Jungian & Alchemical imagery


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I search for homeless guys

Who sleep among the wheat

I make them into meat-pies

And sell them in the street.

I sometimes eat them roast

Washing'em down with ale

A buttered slice of toast

Over a bedtime tale.

Each winter I drink blood

Collect it my barrels

With bone-marrow and spud

Over sweet Christmas carolls

Yet downright to my taste:

Firm buttocks hence I bake

Of blondine virgins, chaste

Amongst layers of cake!

Louise Blackwick

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