Torture

Cast me out among the indigent;
to a cardboard village succumbing to
filth and malnutrition.
Expose my ribs, my milky flesh and
the loss etched into my empty eyes.
Sewage nightmares and downspout water fountains;
make these my oasis, my relief.
Let me find myself, again,
kindred among the suffering

Will me to wild hills
to wolves wearing famine like
scarves around shrunken yet fierce necks.
Have me fall to a ring of rabid mouths foaming -
to be torn, piece by piece, far away from
anything remotely human.

Deliver me to the butcher,
cleaver my hands and legs and head.
Create quarters of a broken whole.
Let me be feed.
Slaughtered then roasted and
put on display for viewing - selection;
destined for the fat wanting
mouths of the rich.

Release me to obscurity.
Where my inexistence effects
nothing or no one.
Imagine me meaningless -
disposable,
a ghost.

Send me anywhere,
save,
the grip of love.
There is no torture so
awesome
as this.


Michael Lorne Leard