A Recipe for Disaster

The world has many ways to express today,
only has one common way,
Of--
Making a soup of Disaster in a very delicious way.

The steps are simple you see,
you just start with a room and a stinging bee.
Add three cups of robbers,
and a sprinkle of wild mobbers.
Some mother-in-laws,
and a wet cat with very long claws.

Boil and give a stir,
then give it a splash with thirty bottles of liquor.
And just for flavor an abused boy,
and a broken toy.
A pinch of rage,
and a rhino in a three by three inch cage.

Then turn the heat way up high,
then add a little pink eye.
As it fizzles and boils over the top,
wait till it gives a little pop.

Then add one hundred racist cops,
and prepare to break out the mops.

Garnish with the final finishing,
They are quite diminishing.
A broken heart,
a severed body part.
This shall do the trick,
plus anything else you pick.
Just think of something disturbed and very sick,
Something like a bloody stick.

Then pull up a chair,
let down your hair.
And hear the soup moan in great despair.

You will see it is quite tasty,
And may be a little pasty.

But—

There is plenty to go around,
so don’t make a sound.
At the price of nothing a bowl,
there is no need to lose control.

Unless—
You want to be added,
to this soup unpadded.

Keep yourself under control,
or find yourself in someone else’s bowl.

Frank Brist