the butcher shop

by Karen Kolb

patrick huang

spring 2016


Walking into the butcher shop

on the first day,

I came ready to chop.

I was ready to cut away.


With knife in hand I sliced

some remains that were bloody fresh.

I chopped, minced and spliced

to peel some fascia and flesh.


A few slashes got me to muscle,

which I ripped asunder to see bone.

Cutting is hardly any trouble

when your emotions are set in stone.


A hammer and a chisel

was sufficient to extract the spine.

Sculpting can be oh so simple –

so harmless and benign.


The day at the slaughterhouse ended

with the unveiling of the cord.

Oh, the day was truly splendid!

Not a moment was I bored.


How I do love the butcher shop;

how I would go every day.

To learn how to slice and chop

and how to detach away.