Friday, July 13, 2012

Drunkey monkey, makin' bacon at night

I think I told those other people to follow their dreams
Don't spend another year waiting
Another month or another week
Waiting
But I kept waiting
I didn't feel that vibe from any dreams
Anymore

I drank beer alone
And tried to eat bacon at night
I took a metal shape
It was from the earth
Smelt from ore
I placed it on different hot metal
Hot because I touched a piece of plastic on a piece of metal
And I grabbed a different piece of plastic
From the drawer
From the dollar store
Maybe built through the toiling of a kid like me
Split from me and my lineage generations ago
Maybe mixed with me a bit
Just not enough for me to really care
Or maybe it was built by mindless robots

A plastic piece
Made from the remnants of an ancient swamp
Anoxic
Trees fell over
A dinosaur fell in
Drowning in tar
The first pang of regret ever
And the universe realized its kids wouldn't eat from now on
Would die
But no concept of this fact:
They wouldn't get to become plastic

A cold box of mostly metal
Inside, a plastic film containing
Tightly wrapped hunk of carcass
Very slowly rotting meat
Chopped to slices
Echoes of a last thought
Thoughts of a present moment:
A pig ahead gushing
The smell of fear
Moments before, momentary relief at the end of the terrifying truck ride
But he didn't know what a truck is
Didn't know it's a metal thing
No concept of metal
Smelt from ore
Ore from the earth
Earth dug up by monkeys
He just knew it's another place those wicked monkeys lead him onto
It moves and it shakes

Final thoughts might have been:
Terror, anticipation.

But probably not the time he pranced
A piglet between bars
Too small to feel them
To notice the tightening grip
Or cognize where they would lead him
A stun gun
And a warm, wet knife pressed into his neck, unbeknownst
Just him pressed up against a warm, soft belly
Full of food
Mum laying
Nipples swollen
Didn't understand she was trapped
Or that she forgot about that time she felt that same way
Cause now she's just trapped
A bacon factory
Making little bundles for plastic film
For drunkey monkeys
Makin' bacon at night

I closed my eyes
I closed the door to the refridgerator
I turned off the stove
But the pig was still silent, dead.

No comments:

Post a Comment