Pork Finder

Jon Parkin

In the blood river of our final battle I found a dog with my legs and danced on bird skulls that popped to the rhythm sent from the death machine.
You were the Pork Finder and you knew your job well.
As bits of the children and their imagination rushed overmyfeet I held you close as I kissed the blood off your lips
through your last shiver and let you go.

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