Since my last paycheck your clothes
have become tattered and a bit worn.
Your face has become a bit green
and its skin seems to be falling off the cheek-
bone. I can see your teeth are chipped
and yellow. I didn’t know that they were.
And I wish you would look at my face,
or at least with a bit more consciousness.
Your translucent eyes affixed to my meaty
and probably delicious pork belly physique
is a little disconcerting
and you should close your open maw,
a long spiderweb strand of drool
is pooling on my welcome mat.
Oh, we’ve never met?
Well then excuse me for the confusion,
as several of your folk come to batter
my door every hour. Who are you?
Wait. Come to think of it,
I don’t want to know. Do you mind
if I shoot you in the face with this shotgun?