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Meat Slicing Weather

Donald Illich

When lambs plummet from skies on roofs
When cows cover lawns with frosty moos
When goats flood cities with strange milk
That’s when I think about slicing

When rabbits spike trees in hurricanes
When deer melt asphalt with burning hooves
When chickens cross roads for no reason
That’s when I sharpen my knives

When pigs fly in tornadoes over pens
When ducks hail us with deadly droppings
When quail burst in blizzards of feathers
That’s when I prepare to slaughter

That’s when the weather’s a barnyard
That’s when its squawks wash the earth
That’s when its animals sing up a storm
That’s when I cut its voices down

Donald Illich

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