Meat is Murder
We stop eating meat
because River Phoenix
we throw everything away,
the freezer, our Mother’s closet
meat and leather
shoes and rib-eye
Jell-O casserole
into the street
what about the scene
in Running on Empty
when the family
leaves Jomo behind
did it break his heart
as an animal lover?
how he did he dig
deep enough to separate
from the loss of the pet
or did the loss fuel the scene?
did the anguish of mistreating
an animal keep him up at night?
we weep at the sight
of the bright pink slabs
in the supermarket
faux grass accoutrements.
how can we ingest
things River thinks
are so bad for us?
our mothers
ask for two pounds, thinly sliced,
and we watch the hunk
run back and forth
through the slicer smugly
blood-juice drips
from the blades
and the man
with the bushy eyebrows
rhythmical and methodical
tenderly grabs each slice
before it falls to the counter
we want to slam our bodies
into the glass, smash the hams,
the whole octopus,
bright salmon fillets
which we learned are dyed
so we eat them,
the pork cutlets,
the roasts,
we want to smash
the chicken livers
into people’s faces
make them choke
on their diseases,
we want to scream
meat is murder
at the top of our lungs!
Meat is murder
because River Phoenix says so!