Batter Up

Dark. Grisley. Graphic. And remarkably about bakin cookies if you can believe it.

Deep within the dark swells of my kitchen,
I claim my bowl and place it next
to my Betty Crocker Bible
on the pristine counter top.
The hearth warms my back with its red glow,
taunting the captives of my cupboard
by licking its flaming lips
at the book's forbidden incants .
I align the harvest reap I enslaved in a jar
with the fruits of Mother Nature's loins,
Skin swollen, raw, and bleeding
fourth their exposed sweetness.
I fill the cauldron with all I have procured,
the steam hazing over the brim.
I clinch an iron spoon and
whip my victims into a raging brouhaha
then feed them to the fire where they burn
into seals of divine wholesomeness
so that I may feast.

_____EyeKahn_____
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **