“Let it go. Let it out.
Let it all unravel.
Let it free and it can be
A path on which to travel.”
Michael Leunig.

Annarcheyes adores Leunig,
The world’s best visual poet
But he can’t see
The pain that she
needs to cause,
her sacrificial suckling pig

Annarcheyes enacts a plan
For thethe grisly demise of a man
Whose crimes , like Fortunato’s,
Need not be named
Yet the vengeance and pain
Need to be fully explained

Annarcheyes rufies the beast
He awakes in the dark
Naked and bound
And hears the hoarse whispered sounds
Of his fate,
The noted Killer will miss this feast.

“There won’t be much pain,
I want you alive,
On a drip, local anaesthetic
First you starve
Then I feed you your feet
Your pursuit of prey won’t be so fleet

“Then your hands go down your throat
You won’t be so quick to gloat
Over grabbing
(did I mention the mirror overhead?
Your eyes will be last)
An appropriate repast

“Force feed in no particular order
Your ears, tongue, balls and dick
(with Maxolon!
Thou shalt not be sick)
None have any significance
In your general gender disorder.

“Then the eyes, the pain now real
Dumped at a hospital
You’ll be kept alive
As utterly helpless in fact
As you made me feel”