So gross a solecism
was what began the schism
in the family of chifferobe makers
who lived next door to the damn silly Bakers.
who were at least normal in one respect:
The most crucial ingredient to human sustenance they did not reject.
They ate bread; yes they did,
while in the basement of the other house, the chifferobes hid
meat of special varieties.
Sandy and Louie ate Venison and Turkey
while Kim and Johnson ate mouthfuls of pork and chicken
while the children slurped up with zeal
the meat of their dead grandparents.
You see! You realize! You understand!
Their solecism was not one on high demand.
Twas very uncommon, their patterns of consumption
But it was all met with logical reasoning
By God, their grandparents were dead and of no use!
Their meat could still good for the world; the hungry it was feeding.
And the grandparents themselves, in their wills, approved!
So what was the problem?
Without a means to logical criticism
Many still thought their action wrong—an infringement of something sacred.
And then the family would laugh and say, "Oh everything will eventually die!
For what purpose, then, would you ever sanctify?"
Thus their solitude and solecisms were founded
on strong bricks of reasoning
lacking the moral sentiments intuitive to those they doubted,
the bulk of the human species.
In a pool of billions, they were different colored stars
They wouldn't change and neither would others
For we have no choosing in our nature, our manners; we are
the genetic products of our mothers.
So that's why the schism happened; some family members departed
Thinking the tradition of cannibalism at funerals to be retarded
So to put this short and peculiar matter to a concrete end
to a peaceful and tied up rest
I will slap shut the door of this story and ease your duress
by telling you that the meat I'm eating now
is the very best.
It smells like chifferobes.
