Pinky’s Fresh Flesh
goats on my feet
a fat plastic bag in my grasp
I burst through the butcher shop door
fresh
sun-spiced air
filled my lungs
I wore a wide grin
as I strode toward home
I couldn’t believe
I got all these chicken hearts
so cheap
I planned to toss them
on my charcoal barbecue
and fill my belly
then for a second I imagined
the sizzling giblets
growing small meaty arms
pulling out grotesque slimy smartphones
and trying desperately
to call for rescue
no dice
sorry little guys