Untitled Poem by Abdul Wahab

Under the chest ribs
Lies a lump of meat
A heap, betel shaped,
Do you want to eat?
Bring a sharp knife, quick,
Stab, repeatedly and be swift,
And out of it, make a good feast.


Soil upon soil
Again on them soil
Makes a good mound
Through it runs blood
Seven litres pure or more
Do you want to suck?
From a safe distance
Throw a Tomahawk
To make a perfect hole
Suck with full content
When Blood will spill.