Empathological Necroticism - Carcass

Bloodied, torn and twisted

Severe mutilation is all that remains

Stagnating in shrink-wrap

Empty the contents onto the mortuary slab

The morbid, muted body

Is dissected, lacerated and shred

Life is hard as a mortuary technician

The fumes go straight to my head

The trunk now depleting gristle, with bactericidal decay

This discissed disarticulation I bludgeon as I ablate

Diluted spittle, bile and gore

Congealing puddles on the floor

Grotesquely dismembered

As the cavities I harshly sever

Stabbing at the trachea, chest with walls I puncture

Slicing back flesh I tear, subject to malacia

Advanced rigor mortis, the corpse internally bruised

Kaleidoscope livor mortis, the carcass a shade of livid blue

Joints are stiffened, I now bend and crack

The cerebrum pulped, with cranial collapse

Bodily embalmed and fluids tapped

Maceration is oozing, as the insides I unwrap

Finished with the fragments, a mass of stinking waste

Spread-eagled bloody mess, I hastily eviscerate

Advanced pyarthrosis.

Let there be rot (fun in the morgue)

Foul autodigestion.

Necrotic mutation

The gaping chest is crudely stitched up

Internal organs are hastily replaced

The carnage totally disfigured

Another pathological waste

Flowing blood crusts

The corpse is totally rotten to the core

The miserable, festering stiff

I dismember with my saw

The wounds are stitched, I shabbily try to repair

Disintegrating with histolycis and everyday wear and tear

«Cadaveric dissolution, sliced, ripped and deceased

Eructated gases are gurgling as they bleed

Congested pus, blood and autodigested gore

Tissue corrodes as aggression gnaws»

The mortuary table I now wipe, sponge and clean

Washing away the remains of life, the slab now gleams

The evaporating reek of putrefaction gets right up my nose

Carnage, chunks and leftover pieces in the bin I dispose

Advanced pyathrosis — let there be rot (fun in the morgue)

Foul autodigestion.

Necrotic mutation