Ode to Taxidermy
An animal sleeping a slumber of death,
Peaceful, cold like ice cream, sweet yet sour.
I don’t want to bother the animal.
I grab the scalpel fixedly,
I move it in my hand, twisting I prepare.
I start with a cut,
A little cut, small, it doesn’t matter.
After a larger cut
Beginning at the stomach.
I cut lower, a large cut,
A cut long and thin.
I open it little by little.
To me it’s no longer an animal
It’s just a thing,
I cannot smell, I cannot hear,
I am in my own world
Pulling the skin back and back.
I cut some bones, I cut the fat.
I hear a sound, it’s four thirty.
I put the head in its body,
I put it in a sack,
Good bye my thing,
I miss you.