MATH

Mysterious numbers rise and fall, leaving me faint
Astonishingly multiplying these blurred heavy-stained parallel lines
Tentacles tug and tear at me from my cubicle seat
Hexagons and prisms -these quadratic equations will be the death of me yet.

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FESTIVALS

Fattening our already swollen bellies
Every small bite, a delicious morsel
Scrumptious and fine, gouge your teeth deep down, we little one
Tough tendons will sharpen your fine muscles
Invigorating showers of blood, fat, sloughed skin will paint our naked skin
Vultures will swoop down shortly.
Ah! Quick! Swiftly gather our nightly booty
Load down your arms with all heavy, serrated, gouged, thrashed limbs
Save your tears and prayers for our snow-capped mountain peak open-starry flat.