As when the bull is butchered

As when a bull is butchered,
the eyes haunt,
those eyes...

The knife cuts smoother and faster
but the ox is still,
beyond understanding

Just as he served,
ferried man, beast and burden
for the shadows

The bull is still
cut in cubes for soup and stews
as in blood dreams

The fire is furious
and pots yell at each stir
in vicarious pains  

The ox is calm.
His ancestors consent
in earthen pots.