Justin Rutledge

Feb. 4, 2008

The Meat

Only the freshest ingredients go into my meal.

The herbs are from my garden,

The fruits are from the back.

Those are not important, though,

Not in comparison to the meat.

Ah, the meat -fresh and warm

From a free range source.

Succulent and moist.

Every type a different flavor.

Meat from the hills tastes of truffles and fresh greens.

Meat from the dirt is gamey, but good.

Some taste naturally smoky.

Some taste faintly of tomato soup.

Whether it be shanks or ribs,

Rump or thigh,

The younger they are the better.

Every part that can be used is.

Their outer layers, teeth and nails

Go into the furnace.

My dog gets the bones.

When I run low it’s time to hunt.

A different catch

At a different spot.

It’s easily done.

Just divide the herd

Or wait for one to stray.

Then spring the trap.

Now you’ve got your catch of the day.

They watch as I prepare

Their succulent grave.

Many squirm and struggle.

In vain they rattle their cage,

Hoping for mercy.

Some try to get away.

Crap! I’m almost out of bear traps.

Kidnapping used to be so much easier.