We drank a toast on our wedding night,
yours pierced with cyandide.
It was quite the rational choice, my love
a quietus to your feeble sighs.
I dripped it straight into your cup
whilst you closed your doe and saucer eyes,
and my blood did thrill,
my eyes did gleam,
I knew then I held my prize!
We wound back to our stiff abode
and I pinned you on the stairwell.
And there I lunged like Bluebeard
to breach your pleasure shell.
I was caught up in your petticoats,
breathless and depraved,
but then your frame began to sag,
and your face flashed cool and grave.
The corpse dropped and bruised each step
with the ring of cracking bones,
and with your golden locks
like reigns in my grip
I dragged that dolly far from home.
The ride was sweet,
with your hollow head in my lap,
fingers laced your dry neverlands.
I halted at the great black lake,
lifeless as your severed hands.
I knocked the ice clean with your limbs
and slipped them through when the sheen came undone.
You bobbed just like a ducky, darling-
so peaceful and overcome.
But now your fortune’s in my grasp,
and I roam your wealthy lands.
The public defecate condolences,
and I feel a lucky man.