I took a ticket
and waited
to be called to the counter
by the butcher.
I’ve seen the ones
who arrived before.
Come and go.
Come and go.
I’m still waiting beneath
the yellow fluorescent glow,
and she’s not helping anyone.
Take my ticket.
Carve me off a piece of myself
and hand it back to me
in brown paper.
Make me regret
my appetite for meat.
Make me regret
I hadn’t been a vegetarian
of the heart.

written on 08/03/2018 by: Matt Kane