Butchers
From the Book, Unworthy Lives, Pages 59-61
Copyright © 1998, 2007
Jason Lester Atkins
985 Fleet Drive, #347
Virginia Beach, VA 23454
All Rights Reserved.
What you read is true: I am in the
room: Our brains are taken by a team of
two: On the tables in our dining hall, goblets
of blood and tears flow into catching cloths: Large
shining spoons dip our brains, like soft boiled eggs
from a breakfast cup: Brains placed in jars prepared
with our numbers: Maria's brain is small: She is
only six years old: Her pink brocade dress is
soiled with blood from her draining nose and mouth:
We all bleed from our noses and mouth and
had let go back and front: I soiled my
best blue dress: I am like an etherized patient
on the ceiling above the working surgeons: Seeing all
movement and motion: Knowing, I can not stop the
knife or feel the cut: The butcher removes my
birthday watch from my tattooed arm. He pleased his
daughter with a present that night: Our last dresses
are burial bags: I feel I am not alone ...
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