How I Want My Steak

I want my steak

To be sitting across from me

Sweating

Its eyes on my knife

Its udders utterly still

A fly buzzes

Around its snout

The steak still identifies as a cow

But I only see it for what it is

An entree

Every so often

Its tail wags

All the waiters in the restaurant

Hang back

Waiting--as waiters should

To see where this road

Will take us

The smell of the farm

Still radiates

Off the meal

As its tongue darts out

To slap its nose

This might just be a nervous tic

It would startle a meaker man

But I am no such man

I am hungry

I am a carnivore

The steak’s heart beats

Steadily

Its pulse a fascinating rhythm

My new favorite tune

A song for the ages

I picture it slowing

Then coming

To a sudden

Halt

The steak moves

The soup spoon around
Very uneasy

Very unable

To calm itself

The other diners

Chew on their medium rares

Their rares

Their--bile rising--

Well dones

They look at me

And ask themselves

Why I would dare

Take things this far

It’s none of you concern,

I’d like to say to them

I shall eat my dinner

How I choose

In whatever way I choose

Rare is respectable

For cowards and weaklings

I am a man

I eat my meat

While it still has dreams

While it still has memories

While it still feels that tug of hope

That might mean a reprieve

From its destiny

No plates are needed

A fork will suffice for cutlery

Even though I would gladly

Rip into my steak

With bare hands alone

I honor the meat

With my savagery

With my lack of hesitation

What’s going on now

As I sit mere inches from it

Is the dance that we do

Before the honeymoon
Before the feast

Before a glint in my teeth

Becomes a light so powerful

It outshines even the most squeamish

Of onlookers

They will see this is primal

This is commendable

This is right

I pick up my knife

I lick the sharp side of the blade

Not afraid of a little cut on my tongue

Eager to have my blood

Mix with the bovine blood

That will soon be spilled

I aim the dagger

I steel my resolve

I ask for forgiveness

For the indulgence I’ve enjoyed

In waiting this long

And then--

The cow rushes me

Knocking the table aside

Stampeding me to the ground

Stomping on my face and body

With its cobblestone hooves

Soon after

I am gone

My ghost trapped

Inside a painting

Hung on the wall

Near the men’s restroom

Meanwhile the steak

Eats a salad at a nearby table

And receives compliments

On its fine

Delectable

Physique