Le Boucher



“My soul knows my meat is doing bad things, and is embarrassed. But my meat just keeps right on doing bad, dumb things.” - Kurt Vonnegut

Behind the beaded curtain
                                    hangs the meat.

(It is the 1970s
and bulgur wheat
                                    and curly kale
have not yet been invented.)

Beyond the veil of tears,
                                    behold the street!

Arms and legs in natty threads.
The walking, talking, meat undead.

Stuffed roughly
                                    into ill-fitting skins.

Making a pact
                                    with a rack of plastic bacon.

We monobrowed consumers
                                    of the Planet of the Vapes.

We all end up on the butcher's slab.
There can, and will, be no escape.

B.R. 28/08/2019