Of A Beast That Stood And Now Has Fallen
They bestow rich names, but only for their appetites:
Heifer, Charolais, Angus, et cetera;
The two deep eyes protrude from his deep throat,
Scrawnynecked, and some would say
Dull to the world, others—
Who understand, and see only themselves—
See wisdom which no true words could express.
He who was made to stand over the field
Lowing with some plaintive annoyance, that moved
Toward love and light,
Held such a manfulness on four straight legs
Sturdy, hooves planted firmly in the dirt.
And with a groan the beast is boltgunned in the head,
Mighty and fallen,
Bloodpools spreading, eyes,
A sickly, flowing dishevelment of energy …
This day calls forth more of the workers
Aproned and gumbooted, emerging scrambling
From their trucks, clambering with shouts and stifled laughs
To hang, hook-high, this great dead mass.
Marcus Ten Low