It’s the thrill of the kill
That gets me
Taking the beast down
Drawing blade across throat
Feeling the shudder
As life ebbs away
That knowledge of having
Taken a life
Even if it is a dumb animal
Then to carve it up
Strip skin from flesh
Take the hindquarters
Cos that’s where
The good meat is
Stick it in bags for
The drive to town
II.
They were out there
In the dark
Dumb as cows
Could see their eyes
Bright in the spot light
Stood there stunned
While we shot ‘em
Some refused to fall
But Lenny charged in
Hunting knife in hand
Hacking them like dogs
Even punched one for fun
But it wasn’t going down
Without a fight
As if its right to live
Was uncontested
III.
Sat around the camp fire
Smell of blood on us
Rifles blown and stowed
Carcasses hanging from the truck
Like totems to the meat god
As we tucked into
Beans, sausages and beer
Midnight Oil on the stereo
Telling tales of trigger pulls
Near misses and head shots
While out in the dark
They watched us wary
Nostrils twitching
At the smell of death
Electric in the air
Like a prelude to rain
©Shaun Green 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment