deaf and dumb
are the passers by,
the visitors as well
gladly would I fill their ears
with the wisdom of weary worries,
tedious torments, but I fry their meat,
smashing it until it screams
the sizzling symphony wafts to my bulb
stirring memories of the steer, the ****,
the beatific butchering, and
the killing fields of my youth
while others see only my hunched back
and wait for their greasy grub
I ask why there is no atonement
no sorrowful song for the slaughter
of young ones in faraway lands
who fell under the “noble” knife
or
the bovine beasts whose skulls
were there for the bar, that dropped
with sublime indifference
as it stilled their
magnificent silence
You have to be old to know the allusion to "cheeseburger--pepsi--chips" (from Saturday Night Live--the early years--mid to late 1970s) and you have to be strange to understand how the title relates to the poem. Also, "bulb" is olfactory bulb, ones sense of smell. I could not bring myself to use the word "olfactory".