Death Bread Car

First of a set of generative image-inspired poems I'm writing in the run-up to Hallowe'en...

https://dalipoetry.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/death-bread-car.jpg

The death bread car will come to play

All smells of crusty rolls and oil

Sometimes night, and sometimes day

To stay with those who do not toil

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"Tap these bones upon my plate"

Death bread car says in your head

"Play my teeth from dawn 'til late

And if you stop, you will be dead!"

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Death Bread Car cannot be sliced

If you try your brains will boil

And if you run, then in a trice

Your lungs will fill with engine oil

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So bake your bread with your own hands

Toil to bake your bread each day

The death bread car, it roams our lands

Bake fresh, keep death bread car away

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Links to reviews: 1st / 2nd / Post on my web site