The Pragmatic Chef

Eating badgers and rats, police turn,
milling about in country hats.
Killing a dead animal,
animalizing the stuffed dead.
Now you’re eating your anger.
Now you’re gassing the cook.
Now the cook ignites, an intense ball of gaseous flame.
Now you’re bleeding on the food.

The sun glows,
bitterly high in the morning.
And the badgers have turned on the police.
The ideas have turned in the mill.
Laying the foundation of reorganization
cannibalizing stuffed animals.

The sun glows,
bitterly high in the morning.
The sand sighs bitterly,
scorning.
Now you’re killing a dead cook.