the butcher



so he spoke to me of
brawn, how he boiled it
on monday, picked out
bits, on tuesday, when it
had cooled.

now it is all health and safety,
list of ingredients, nobody
asks him any more. most
butchers buy it in, along side

he had that, and all his fingers.

it happens when it is cold, and
he showed me his scars. white
hair poked from his bib, the other
butcher, is not his son. he chose

a different career, the butcher
just wanting hime to be

i bought a rolled breast of lamb
at two pounds, fifty.




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