in the pasture everything is hungry.
the grass waves goodbye goodbye goodbye
to a beloved cocoon hanging from the day-moon.
we never meant to. walked out there
with bibs & forks. my brother & i & our
short round fingers. when i first became vegetarian
carrots started to speak to me & ask
"what is your favorite kind of listening?"
i'd swallow them whole like submarines.
but the cows. the cows know what we intend.
they lay down as if to predict rain
but the sky is bright & loud. sun braiding
my arm hairs. we used to shave our faces
down to the bone. feel that gutted glistening
in the wild night's bath. now, all we can do
is chase them around the yard. hoof to soil.
soil to rock. rock to core. i want to be
ground & grounded. lightning's brief forest.
holding hands with cows & promising them
not to eat them. no more dinners. nothing
to see here. all fours. the animal's
fortune eyes. in them we see our faces
warped & weary. drinking from the river's tea.
sleepy with lack of protein. one cow
eats another gently as can be. bite by bite.
wipes his month on the grass. the devoured cow
just closing her eyes. i don't know anymore
what it might mean to feed. a video of
a man chewing is projected on the moon.
i cover my eyes. my brother says, "you first"
& i don't know what exactly he means
but i start anyway. forks in my pocket.
cows, scattering. grass waving goodbye goodbye.