(The body of Christ…the body of Christ…the body of Christ…the body of Christ…the body of Christ…the body of Christ – Mommy they are coming...) Stench of solvent Covers stench of rot I didn't even recognize her Like a painting A masterpiece torn to pieces And set to flame Her own cells Turned on her Her skin Is yellow Like the wildflowers In July She asks me how she looks And I tell her That she's as lovely as the vultures As pretty as the larvae of the fly Pretty as the larvae of the fly