Froggacuda's Weblog

I am Mister Gnarly in my corridors of bones,
chewing gristle from burrowed skulls,
populating my empty rooms
with ivory treasures;
fragile sculptures of vertebrae;
bones licked clean of graveyard dust;
balanced and braced
in my honeycombed ways.
filthy I throne upon a cowhead,
rotting with my dessicated flesh,
searching for people that I knew,
to hold their skulls in my paws
and telling their bleached eyes
that I am Mister Gnarly to you.