"On the back of the fish truck that loads
While my conscience explodes."
– Bob Dylan
I am standing outside the Vietnamese grocery
when I notice a silver 18-wheeler at the curb.
A man is unloading into grocery baskets and
wheeling the loaded baskets into the store. A closer look
reveals the metal carts are full of pig bodies.
frozen solid, frozen in time
their bodies split from neck
to abdomen, insides removed,
left red, gaping open like an eye
I go closer to experience this thing
and look at their heads, ears, eyes, lashes,
all lined up in the basket
solid, ice, no smell
their freckled and plain faces,
individuals,
eyes gazing at me
like the faces of everyone
I ever knew.
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