Dispose of the shit down a deep, dark hole
Let it fester and stew in a wretched brew
Gnarled roots twist and feed of the rancid trough
Belching, sputtering into the fetid slough
Crap in cellophane and a card board box
Pushed in your face until you lick your chops
The texture-less manure; taste matters not
Nutrition is forgotten in lieu of "gut rot"
Down into your shit box goes the gooey glop
Greasy fingers licked clean of the special secret slop
Three hours later it lurches and burns
My body: the corporate gunk shop.