I want my entrails to be ripped out

And scattered to the four winds

I want my idiotic head bashed in

After its ears have been severed

I want my ten toes and fingers

To be ground, fully-cooked, and

Fed as slop to pigs that

Squeal for their belated lunches

I want my skinless leg bones severed at the joints,

Sun-dried, then broken into hundreds

Of tiny, brittle pieces before getting

Scattered broadly in the deep blue

I want this lying tongue ripped out,

Stewed and fed to prowling dingoes

In the wee hours of down under nights

All of the above and more is what

I want should one day I fail to believe

Or to be grateful to the living Lord

Lovingly infused in my childhood and youth.