Holy cows
Revered, placed in a carefully consecrated sanctum sanctorum
Till the ordained time, when they are slaughtered
Slaughtered after an elaborate ritual of rage
their hide left intact, to make a punching bag
A punching bag that can be hit and hit again
Revered, placed in a carefully consecrated sanctum sanctorum
Till the ordained time, when they are slaughtered
Slaughtered after an elaborate ritual of rage
their hide left intact, to make a punching bag
A punching bag that can be hit and hit again
2 comments:
The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways...
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet...
AND THEN
THE LIGHTING OF THE LAMPS...
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