Man of Excess

I am excess incarnate.
I accept it.
May all ribs be stripped of meat,
Chicken bones crushed and ground,
Bone marrow licked clean.
From my hands sprout claws,
My maw flashes canines.
More, I crave more
Ravenous, piercing, direct.
How could I be subtle?
I lick the blood from my cuts,
My eyes surveying the scene.
I’ll drop a bird before your feet.
A gift, it’s just a gift.

-k.r.r.