Bloody Feast

  1. Battered and bruised, pierced for to bleed,
  2. Hidden from view under the sheet.
  3. Plucked from the pile, dismembered feast,
  4. Onto my tongue, go skin and meat.
  5. Throw back my neck, in my throat seeps,
  6. Warm, salty, red, down my chin leaks.
  7. Blood on my lips, flesh in my teeth,
  8. Closing my eyes, bowing my knees.
  9. Promises made I cannot keep;
  10. Parroted oath, longing for deep:
  11. Never forget, memory sleeps;
  12. Obey the law, mirror the sheep.
  13. Stuck here in jail, want to be freed,
  14. Trying so hard, always too weak.
  15. Wishing to change, nowhere to seek.
  16. Hear a pin drop, never a peep.

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By Kim Siever

I live in Lethbridge with my spouse and 4 of our 6 children. I’m a writer, focusing on political news, social issues, and the occasional poem. My politics are radically left.

I’m also dichotomally Mormon. And I’m a functional vegetarian: I have a blog post about that somewhere around here. My pronouns are he/him, and I’m queer.

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