The doctor is my patient; I throw the apples at their peeled cores often they’ve already made me swallow.
They do keep the doctors away, but that’s as long as they follow their perceptions of cocaine and the ashes of the crisp bills from their pockets.
For they are my patients in Slaughterhouse 5.
Drizzle ammonia on their hot-blooded and fresh steaks
Pour out the anesthesia to make the patients even number than they were before - if that was possible.
Take out the rags used to clean up the crap they spew out of their mouths
And let them use a toothpick to slowly dig their own grave to which they’ll be buried alive with real smiles on their faces
Smiles that have not seen the light of day
Since their 1st murder to only be viewed now
By hungry beetles and squirming maggots.