Searching for a symbol this is all we’ve got:
two slaughtered animals, hooves chopped off,
heads removed, insides gone,
hanging from the back door of a rigid truck.

Searching for a symbol this is all we’ve got:
a black patch of grass where a family car was.
Fire engine, ambulance, tow-truck gone.
Remnants of a wheel with the rubber burned off.

This is the day when the landlord calls—
takes everything we have just to answer the phone,
takes everything we have just to pay what’s owed,
takes everything we have just to make it home.

There are no signs. This is the road.
All the slaughtered animals, their insides gone.
A man slaps the shanks, tells a butcher’s joke.