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The Butcher
Contributed by
pipesmcgavin
on
Wednesday, 22nd November 2006 @ 09:15:29 PM in AEST
Topic:
war
|
Such a character is the neighborhood butcher
Such a craft is his art
Sharpened steel on flesh, bone and sinew
Well marbled steaks, dressed and cleaned game
Past the counter we can see no farther than his fouled apron
We never get to see the deathblow
Or the veins burst, and the pig stuck
A gaping throat gash sucking for air
Or hear the panicked bovine or frenzied gamecock
Thrashing as though their life depends on it
Because really, it does, or it did
And we are spared the killing room floor
Dragging slabs through the feces and whatnot
Not even the rottensweet smell of death
From our butcher we get the beauty of cold meat
The cuts are clean and tender, chilled behind glass
Wrapped in cellophane, rubbed with spices
Bagged in the cart with the Kool Aid and pumpkin tins
Our inanimate dinner, grilled to perfection to nourish our bodies
To feed our families
Its all so palatable
We chew and swallow the meat, compliments to the chef
But not everyone can stomach the murder
And so we love the neighborhood butcher
The purveyor of the delicious dead
He wears the blood with a smile
So our hands can stay clean
Copyright ©
pipesmcgavin
... [
2006-11-22 21:15:29]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Butcher
(User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on
Thursday, 23rd November 2006 @ 12:23:57 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| you had a very powerful ending. your extended metaphor was excellent. i did think that this poem would be about president grant though, since he was called the butcherer....hrm...i dont know if you have learned of his tactics, but his battle strategy was that sheer numbers win, and the problem was that he would lose those sheer numbers. you had some nice parallelism. great line, "Because really, it does, or it did". your grotesque imagery is amazing. |
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