Meat that begs you to eat it
I was that futuristic cow,
my flesh irresistible cash to be carved
off engorged haunches, canines
grasping at the flank to feed.
Staked, then, on a bed of straw,
Tail in tongue, a smoke-serpent ring rising.
Legend has it,
On that day,
not a single fuck was given.
The brushfire eliminates the scrub-
Hence the saying: so it goes. Amen.
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You are a hard one to track down… It’s me, Joe, still in yellow-springs-land. I thought of you recently, and wanted to say hello.