198. glue the doves, lakes, cake horns, stew

pickle, it seems, for though he’s at ease 
with dumping dead bodies (a different one, really!)
jack couldn’t handle the weight — it was massive — 
it was, and gorillas have five hundred hams in

i mean, say you take a ham and a scale,
and put them together, then multiply, maybe
ham’s not the best goodman’s size to express,
but that’s just what jack had had in his chest

mostly, you see, in these times post-PC
you can’t just say ripper a kid on the street,
the ladies don’t let you ripper their heads off,
so jack had to ham (for ripper’s a let down)

ripper’s are proud, they’ve been for four thousand
years out there ripping, strangling, round in
fog rolling bodies to drop in the water,
but now it’s filled up with gorillas — oh, god! what

a tough time for rippers, but leave that now with the,
this one had got a gorilla to rid him,
for though he’d succeeded the butcher to bleach with — 
he’s always on lookout for new ways to reap in

rip, i mean, isn’t just strangling, within
this age old profession are slays manifest, if
a ripper were stuck just stringing you up
it’d get too soon boring — some will use clubs

or cans, or contraptions, sticks, commas, cameras,
brooms, baseball bats, poison, and rats with
fleas laced with plague, though that’s kind of a
old fashioned technique, cannibals, caving

skulls with a stoop, that one’s been used
only by rippers who’ve got one (they’re few),
tripwires and tool chests, sickness, infusions
of mercury metal, rippers refuse to

lean on their laurels, if death becomes normal,
boring, or baseless, lazy, or moral — 
i mean there’s no point if a ripper’s employed
doing death easy, almost enjoyed, if