strange meats
fall from the sky
now a wing
now a thigh
now a breast
fully formed
stuffed and dressed
over warmed
and a steak just hit me in the ear
what is going on in here?
I’LL TELL YOU
it’s strange meats
falling from heaven
I noticed them first
when I was seven
(some people wait
till they’re old and gray
to notice how meat
doth fall in this way)
storms of flesh
and body parts
all birds of prey
with broken hearts
not one heart unbroken
not one free lunch
just strange meat punching
its ham-fisted punch
severed fingerprints
pointlessly point
leathery snowflakes
in a blizzard of touch
and the slappity slap
of fresh slab and flap
it bounces and flounces
and lands in your lap!
clap your ears shut
or wind up in a trap!
by the fountains of youth
by the fork and the knife
by the mountain, the molehill
and the piemaker’s wife!
strange meat a’coming
a brisk(et) wind blows
should travelling troubadours
risk(it)? who knows.
soon a red giant
will expand in the blue
the world will be
a grand barbecue
(the land will grow quiet,
not even a mooo.)
and when the feast ends
and the sky grows cold
the grind of the blind will end,
the butcher will fold
