Meat Department

Our father, who art in heaven,
I am in the meat department

at a local market
and it smells of hell in here.

Animal flesh is turned into blood
sausages, mince meat and bones.
I am holding my man's hand as I pray:
our father, who art in heaven,

thy will should be done on earth

as soon as possible

cause it smells like hell in here.

We buy three hundred grams of turkey mince

return to the car
put the air conditioner on -
I turn to a passenger's seat
in my man's eyes live his father’s eyes
and in his father's eyes live his father's eyes

and in those eyes live the souls

of all the hamsters
he used to sell by the meat department

that used to smell of hell since then.

Father, who art in heaven,
I am holding my man's hand:
give us today our daily heaven

never leave us rotten
never leave us running on the wheel

for ever and ever.