how big


you say you've never killed

an animal/ i say me too

but then you remember 

the fish/ two fingers

slid underneath gills

you put two fingers

against my neck/ looking

for the wet/ slits in me

you weren't going to be

in this/ poem but here you are

telling me that you only felt

bad about killing/ the larger insects/

is it something about 

the size/ of other animals

that makes them seem really

alive?/ here i am 

on the side of a highway 

near home/ telling a dear

to get up/ legs bent/

like plastic/ straws/

the sun puts its mouth

on each limb/ to drink/

eyes staring up/ at me/

little wells that go all/ the way 

down into the soil/ 

i didn't hit the deer/

but i might have on a different

afternoon/ in a different car.

then remember all/ 

the cows that made up

the cheeseburgers/ i ate

everyday at the pool/ in the summer/

i just mean the largeness 

of them/ all the cows in

their/ full bodies crouched/

in the freezer playing/

hide and go seek/ 

i help them out/ one by one/

sneak them across a few/ years

to where i live now/ my tiny yard/

walk one out/ at a time/

to feed them/ i say 

they will be safe with me/

all twelve cows/ no one

will eat them/ unless 

i fall asleep hungry/

find twelve burgers 

laying/ in the grass/

i should have/ taken better care/

this is no place/ for farm

there are too many animals

i leave my farm/ in a parking space

what does this have/ 

to do with your large insects?

there are moths the size of birds

slaughter/ synonym for finger/

you stick your finger/ in my thigh

of coiled pink ground beef/

there are/ too many cows/ inside me

how big is too alive/

for me to kill by myself?

maybe the size of a fist/

holding my hand up it

turns into a mouse/

suck in a glue trap/

farm trap/

pull the mouse out/ 

saying

go/ run away/