Yesterday’s Slaughter

Meat slipping down the forewall,
flesh stuck to the floor,
bits of blood and bone and heartache
and memories streaking out the door.
there are things that have to be done,
if we want to eat tonight,
there are things that have to be done,
but that does not make them right.
pleading eyes before the hammer,
bonesaw, hatchet, the thin-tipped knife,
there is no cruelty in life’s ending,
the only cruelty is in life.

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