The Butcher

Open up till midnight The butcher waits for someone's desperation That goes beyond control Speaking is an invitation Under fluorescent lights You can't wash out his desire Where bodies are indecent And they are not in decline From behind the counter he thought you whispered you want more Cut out the brights of the oncoming cars on the highway Lightness is forced when you cut out the lines in the paper Cut the split seconds The ones over-filled When you thought you were caught with unknowable thrills Instead you get absence Soft haze in the face The lines in your head have to all be replaced Cleave the dry stone to a promise That an answer soon will follow Grave attention is still focused On the flashlight and the cold fortune Down the streets on prospect The butcher walks home Orange in the streetlight Even knows it in the dark Proves it with his eyes closed He puts his red coat downstairs Goes up into his bedroom Undresses and folds his arms As if it could impress you From under the covers he thought you whispered you want more --- The Butcher - Matt Pond PA