BUTCHERY POEM
I worked at Chez Panisse for 3 months, learned to butcher animals and saw a lot of addiction on my morning commute.
lamb body drips an opal gelee skin chastened, eager to be touched we pull her down from the hook enter cool muscles with fingerthin blades insides smell needy in the dream we are cats with human laughter braising an evil red stew a prince with a 10pm reservation sits to his feast in a soiled twill blazer for dessert: hotrails rockcandy sweetsmelling like a melted pencap no he is the junkie i pass running for the 5am train we lean like a rubber band those who labor, heavy laden come onto me reads the billboard on my street snap into pace i wield my knife with pussyred hands let my touch of labor slip you lamb of god into pathetic, erotic, veinblue stew.