Up it rose from road: Mack-flattened gustation.
Gone to get my vittles. . .alimentation.
All the gore has crusted, drier. My throat's kinda dry.

Had to pry my feed, roadkill, from the highway.
Got some rye to drink; my iPod plays "My Way."
I'm overjoyed. . .soon be eatin'
A dead-skunk soufflé.

Carrion, my fav'rite lunch---
Grab a piece, which teeth'll crunch
Taste that leering head? I guess.
Gotta fry up some more.

Masticating a dead lamb is quite pleasin'.
A Sharpei I found, I heavily season.
One day my game will be some sliced ham;
I'll purge the green parts. . .kinda gross!

Dog lies dormant; it ain't moving. . .no motion;
Toss its snout into sheep dip--I've that notion.
My second course is dingo; portion
Is kinda stingy, sous-chef way.

Carrion sometimes is not too tender;
Carrion sometimes goes in the blender.
Then my gut's no longer empty.
Surly dead friends make good food.

Carrion, my fav'rite lunch. . .
Noshing on Steve's leg for brunch.
Days-dead Steve, he was my guest.
Gotta fry up some more.