Untitled 5

I ground your sacred cows

pressed them as they screamed

thrashed

 

strained

careful

meat ripped

tore

met grinding teeth

of perfect inevitability

nostrils flaring

effort

push

sweat from my brow

dripping

honest

salting the desperate pink ribbons

gristle and tendon

broken things

pushed far too hard

I found my machine easily up to the task

pulverizing snouts and assholes

the forlorn and unwanted

strips and bits

converted to sustenance

 

They screamed as I pressed them deep

ground them

They screamed

 

These are your sacred cows

that I am shoving down your maw

that you are choking on

 

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