Friday, June 4, 2010

SPOTTED SAGA

You were dead, already
Expired so to speak
Eight months I waited
Not move
But sit
Out of the corner
Eyes jumping shadow people
Like when you hear voices in the dark
Ones that slur and moan of what-was-now-that-fit-three-promises
Dreams, sense was a given
Dawn poked its head in
And told you to–WAKE UP!

I guess I lost it
The fact that you were
Oh, how to put it all so delicately
You is dead, dead, dead lil' mutha
You found out when you saw them
Those sick, black dents
Puckering your once firm flesh
I pressed, lightly
And my finger slipped through
I didn't think it hurt
The nerves must have died before the meat turned

I decided we need to know
What you looked like
Beneath black dots of sinking skin
I halved you
The knife buttered in
Sorta, I had to work
Lean on the blade
Hoping it would cut straight
Uh...but it didn't
And instead of two sweet sides of you
I got a little you
And a medium you

Your insides were clean
Or they were dry
And if I waited longer
The outside would have been
Slippery black rot
Your innards dusty
Until the rot absorbed the dust
The glop ate the powder
Well, let's not thought-think-up stuff
Since it didn't happen that way
But I bet you wish...

I chose to cook you
After ripping out the dried membranes
I washed you
A ceremonial bath
In which I continued to gut you
My fingers worked
Pulling on strings attached to flesh
I grabbed the knife again
And if your flesh could move
It would have quivered
A longing for me
To end it

Your body is in six pieces
Boiling they said
Was the best
"Retain all color, and all flavor"
Was the boast
I placed your cut flesh in
I watched the steam soften your once hard, hard meat
Sliding a knife
Tested your solidness
Ah, the epic that was this journey

I will feed you to my family
Found a recipe
You'll be cake

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