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UNTITLED
- University Press of Colorado
- Chapter
- Additional Information
21 UNTITLED I am made of gut-barrels steaming in rain, Steel hooks swaying the rails As quarters and halves enter the cooler And the door slams shut, dust From the bone-saw weighing the air As blood seeks the lowest place To mingle, to thicken. The smell of blood, band saw wheels Fresh oiled and torquing, cigarette smoke Rising lazy to the lights, blue sockets Of shoulders opened, back-straps laid bare And set upon scales between jokes— Liver, heart, tongue, tripe, And the brains of veal calves thrown To buckets, splashed with brine, The tallow-slick knives washed, sharpened And spread across the bench to dry. ...