Chummified

The sport of killing.
 Hanging by hook and 1, 000lb test
 Predator vs. predator
 To turn these waters red
 The sharks go berserk
 They circle the boat
 We hide with machetes and knives
 Ambush and cut their throats
 Chopped up. Chunks. Cuts.
 Frozen in buckets of blood
 With my trusty machete
 I carve the parts to summon the sharks
 Lurking around the jetty
 In a frenzy they're circling, their incisors ready
 To masticate and to munch
 These things you call humans but we call it lunch
 They smell it from miles away
 I stand at the dock now a butchering block
 Smashing. Hacking. Laughing.
 We carry a payload
 Chopped torsos, heads and limbs
 Ground into a mulch
 Frozen and chummified
 Intestines.
 Fresh organs
 Left on the dock, reeking, cokked by the sun
 So pungent
 Disturbing.
 Vomiting induced an mixed with the chyme.
 This is blood.
 Not ashes.
 No mourning.
 No love.
 Sharks go berserk when the blood starts to spurt from
 The stern to the bow human chum is thrown out
 They never thought this would be the way they'd
 Eventually die.
 Shredded into bite-sized pieces - a human goresicle.
 Knee-deep in intestines, gray soupy mixture resembling chyme.
 Sloshing heaps mobilized by waves distributing the piles.
 Granulized.
 Homocide.
 Chummified.