God of the Crock Pot

       (Sagittarius, Watching Autumn Die)

      Lump of meat / Lamb of god
        Lump of lamb of
      All I want / Holy vow
        Vow of want

      But all I'm hearing is
      But all I'm saying is
      But all I'm thinking is
        Five days a week
        Five nights a week

      Mission smack / Dolores St.
        Mission Dolores
      Lamb stew / Sacred cow
        Sacred Lamb
        Sacred Lamb!

      But all I did was
      Cut you into stew
      But all I felt was
      Flesh torn from bone
      But all I thought was
      This feels like my cat
        And my cat a furry lamb
        A different side to flesh
        When she rested on my shoulder
        And pulsed, purred, chattered
        In my ear
      And then the Crock Pot
      And the vegetables
      And melted into
      Melted into

      My name is no one
      My place is no place
      There's no place like home
      THERE'S NO ONE HOME

      And all I'm thinking is
        Fleshless
      And all I'm seeing is
        Meat
      And all I'm wanting is
        To eat

      Not meditate, not pray
      Not eulogize the poor animal
      Shocked and killed, its history
        Concluding in the clay chamber
        Of a slow cooker
        In my kitchen

      Lump of meat / Stew of lamb
        God of Simmering Meat
      Want and need / Free of flesh
        Need as death
        Needless death

      And with my
        200 lbs
      Of
        Flesh and bone
      Do I
      Fulfill more
      Than the promise of
      Needs met?
        Do I rise above
        Do I supersede
        The lamb of the stew pot
        Who gave its life
        Or had it taken
      To have me feed?

      In the middle of the night
      I forgot to be scared.
      It was my only free time.

      Public housing / House of God
        Church of the street
      Crackhead whore / Crystal prism
        Shattered light

      And all I--
        A woman screaming
      And all I--
        SHUT THE FUCK UP out my window
      And all I--
        (wine tasting Saturday)

      Let us eulogize the silence
      Let us eulogize my silence
        Let us eulogize (the loss of) my silence

      And CEOs and papers
        Chambers and pits
      And lawns and foundations
        Chasing lights, drugs
      And cars and children
        Soup kitchens, taverns
        Our own Bergen Belsen
        This casual death
        Next to tapas bars.

      Let us not forget
      Let us never forget
        But what I'm hearing is
        But what I'm saying is
        But what I'm doing is

      Nothing.
      Nothing.
      Nothing.

      God of the Crock Pot
      Who cooks us into
      The form we claim--
      This is my prayer:
      That no flesh suffer in vain.


      © Alan Reade, 2001