Cannibal Island

The babies are biting with hard little teeth.
We have had our tongues removed
at birth. People who live in cages, read.

When I was born the scientists told me
to report to the nearest hospital, it was
open all night they told me (you know,
just in case I was hungry).

There are no cemeteries, A burnt out car
is its own angel. Missing persons report to their
own private companies.

Streets are quietly maintained under sterilised
conditions. No-one has ever had to queue fo the chloroform.
Lives are saved there everyday

while insomnia snarls. There is no clear evidence
of an end to civilisation behind closed doors.
All over the island, our cooking knives are dreaming.