Tis' lovely
To share a moment
With a lover,
Feeding strychnine
And crunchy
Peanut butter
To rats,
Watching them
Writhe
Even as
Their brothers
And sisters
Lick it from you
And your
Lover's
Fingers.

Backs arching,
They scream,
Toes splayed-
Dancing
Into death-
Drusilla
Enjoys such
Moments,
Miss Edith
Approves:
Rats are dirty,
The fewer
The better.

Drusilla's
Beloved
Laughs,
"Look a'
Th' big one,
Pet –
They die
All 'round
'Im
An' still
He eats-
Just like
Our Angelus!"

Little tongues
Caress Drusilla's
Fingers-
To kill a rat
Is to kill
One's tea,
Tea is to
Be shared-
Except Drusilla's
Lover is dust-
Leaving her
To savor this
Sweetness
Alone.

Back arched,
Fingers splayed,
Drusilla
Screams,
Mourning
Over
Strychnine,
Crunchy
Peanut
Butter,
And
What
She
Cannot
Have.


(Thanks to a certain Lady Tramp in England for the challenge.)