the historic dude ranch boy scout chicken slaughter

boy scouts from cincinnati need merit badges,
and so it was arranged.
greg the dude rancher sets up the block,
the hatchet, the bucket for the blood.
this is a father son trip to wild montana
each man stands behind his son in the shed,
in each one beats a heart, boneless, skinless.
one scout pukes, one father faints.
this is life they say, something dies
so you can live,
and how the hell else are you going to get your
merit badge?
up close a chicken smells
like piss and cheesecake.
in a dutch oven, layered with bacon and
onions, a chicken smells like heaven
under a darkening sky overlooking
a glacial lake in the scapegoat wilderness.
after dismemberment, plucking is easy.
everyone eats.

a midwestern guide to familial communication

My father sent me a hanging tomato plant for my birthday.
You plant the seeds and then hang the device,
and all summer long you have tomatoes
for salsa or BLT's or whatever.
This is horticulture of a different sort,
we have the weather,
then we have the tomato status update,
then I ask about my mother,
then I hang up.

I'm thinking of getting him one of those bamboo stems
that grow out of water. Supposedly the chinese
believe them to be good luck.
We don't need luck, what we need is insurance,
against winter,
the sure death of tomato plants.