A black sheep banished
By meek lambs for breaking free
Of a wooden fence
While they stand motionless,
Carotid arteries waiting to be severed,
Shank cut so clean
The flesh mistakes a gash
For a warm pat.
So young that they could not remember
It was the doting farmer
Holding the knife.  

This was first published in Sontag Mag on January 5, 2024.

In Poetry

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