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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:57:29 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 128573
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Butcher
[time] => 2006-11-22 21:15:29
[hometext] => I wanted to write about my times in Iraq, but this just came out...
[bodytext] => 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 It’s 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 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 57 [informant] => pipesmcgavin [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => war )
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