Butcher’s knife
He sharpens his knife before
he tries it on the hind of the goat
hanging from the hook, grey-haired
neighborhood butcher who has
slaughtered many animals during
his career which has sold to meat
craving citizens. He was a very
important member of the society,
Stephen, in his white blood
stained apron, a butcher with his
washed out blue eyes, you could
say the national flag’s white and
blue colors, now that his back is
constantly aching, hunched man
who can’t sharpen his knives as easily
as he used to do, sometimes contemplates,
would they need a butcher up there
in the Heavens, do they still eat meat
in Paradise? Other than the days
of Lent when both the alive and
the dead abstain from eating flesh
Manolis Aligizakis 