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Butchers
C. K. Williams
Thank goodness we were able to wipe the Neanderthals out, beastly(野蛮的) things,
from our mountains, our tundra(苔原)—that way we had all the meat we might need.
Thus the butcher can display under our eyes his scrubbed(精制的) hands on the block,
and never refer to the rooms hidden behind where dissections(解剖) are effected,
where flesh is reduced to its shivering atoms and remade for our delectation
It's Christ also, of course, but much more a troglodyte4(类人猿) such as we no longer are.
Vanished those species—begone!—those tribes, those peoples, those nations—
Myrmidon, Ottoman, Olmec, Huron, and Kush: gone, gone, and goodbye.
within us intricate layerings of color and pain: alive the brush is with pain,
Fling out the hooves of your hands! Open your breast, pluck out like an Aztec
your heart howling its Cro-Magnon cries that compel to battles of riddance!
who inhabits this palace, this senate, this sentried barbed-wire enclosure
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