Plate Xii - Crawling Chaos

A little unpainted wooden house remote from travelled ways

Two hundred years and more it have leaned or squatted there

Small-paned windows still stare shockingly

Twisted in a reverie of memories of unutterable things

Lost in the fields, caught by the storm

Tried the door, knocking

Unpleasant crudeness, secrets forgotten

Bound in leather, there lies the book

Plate XII, gruesome details

The butcher’s shop of the cannibal Anziques

Plate XII, repellent gastronomy

Old, white-bearded and ragged, he inspires wonder and respect

Strong, stout, with bloodshot eyes, inexplicably keen and burning

«Glad you had the sense to come right in»

The incongruous host said, motioning the frightened me to a chair

The book falls open, speech growing thicker

«This is sinful, I suppose»

Chopped bodies, tickling my blood

Shocking ecstasy, killing the sheep

Plate XII, gruesome details

The butcher’s shop of the cannibal Anziques

Plate XII, repellent gastronomy

The picture makes me hungry for victuals I cannot raise nor buy

They say meat makes bones and flesh, and gives you new life

A man can live longer and longer

Splattering impact, the rain is not red

A small red spattering glistens on the page

Lending vividness to the horror below

To the horror below

Plate XII, gruesome details

The butcher’s shop of the cannibal Anziques

Plate XII, repellent gastronomy

Plate XII, Plate XII

Plate XII, loathsome repellent