He slaughters
the blood long days and
nights butchering
in the local meat factory.

A Master Butcher.
Handy with his hands.
From shift to shift
he stuns senseless
cow after consenting cow.
He slices. He sluices
the spilling haemorrhages
down the bloody shores.
He bones the bare flanks.
Rolls the sinewy rumps.
Cleaves cutlets from claret chests.
Cracks ribs, collar bones, shin bones.
Scours the sockets of the
breeding-ground of beasts
who hang headless
strapped by the hoof.
Liver black days clot
into liver black nights.

Nights at home
when he has had his fill
the bull in him bawls bedlam.
He brings the house down.
She swallows her tongue.
Bends over back ways.
Makes allowances.