The Impaler stands a marvel

singular machine with purpose

absurdly deliberate

spikes gleam in perfect rows

polished to a serried sheen

promising precision and pain

mechanics hum strange elegance

gears meshing clockwork

coiled springs taut

heave on its lever

erupts deadly efficiencient

transform potential energy

into laxative moment

designed dark comedy

meticulously overthought

engineer mad sadist

gear-chains whirr

pointless flourishes

monkeys play cymbals

its horror

disguised

don’t laugh

you’re next.