Ceremonial: Heart of the Trottered Beast

 

 

Little elbow of pleasure

in the eating dress.

 

The animal needs room,

even if unchurched

 

yet beautiful. I never

considered the cathedral

 

a body needing to break.

I lay the trottered down.

 

Pestle the eyes, opaque

in vision. As soon as

 

I take the cloth to clean

the sockets, the organs play

 

their last bright notes.

Terrible the sounds

 

of gobbledom.

Slice the gut. Dig

 

the ticking thing out:

Sacrament. Blood lyre.

 

I wipe my tongue of it.

 

 

Carly Joy Miller's work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Adroit JournalBlackbirdBoston ReviewThird CoastVinyl Poetry, and elsewhere. She has been nominated for a Pushcart and was a finalist for the Stadler Fellowship. She is a contributing editor for Poetry International and a founding editor of Locked Horn Press. 

 

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