butcher, by wayne f burke

horse-faced Big Louie
punched me in the
head because
he said
I thought that I, only
twelve years old, KNEW

He chased me
across the lawn
as I ran
into the house
across the kitchen
and pulled the
butcher knife
from the drawer.

He came through the door
as I turned
and as my grandmother came in from the
dining room.

She shouted and
waved her broom
and Big Louie
while the knife
sweated in my hand.



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