Meat by Randolph J. Chabot Jr.

In between seven kingdoms
Where all their borders met.
Laid a carnival of flesh a meat market.

A truly beautiful place with ivory hanging wet,
Dripping organs into seekers heavy set
Stomachs with arms inside their prison guts.
Pushing hands through making peek holes with their cuts.

Everyone praised it for its carnal glow.
Kings and autoworkers bow to it and crow,
At the young moon hiding the face of a slave,
A nurse, or a princess, a doll costume knave.

This bluish slate leaving limbs detached
Keeping mangle arts secret keeping scraping screens latched.

It was my first trek to that holy city.
Ten thousand meat slabs hanging, evoking pity.
Such beauty and terror should not coincide
Each body a pearl to find and to hide.

At the pure sight I vomited and shook.
At the very thought of that prophesied look.
My hands and my body twitched harder even still.
Arms were dragging me, insulting my will.

They pulled me over to a hanging disaster.
Their nails grabbed my eyes, “behold son your master!”
Then by my hair they yanked up my gaze.
Whip Crack! Her scream that lasted an age.

I cried as I stared, it was Love, my mother, my keeper so dear.
She looked at me softly and whispered, “Your click brought me here.”