In ancient times they used every part
from the kill. Occasionally and for lack
of a better purpose, the deltoid flap
was worn like a three-cornered hat.
When my grandfather died
they came for his kidneys, cut out
his liver and lungs. The rest we split
amongst ourselves. We left
the room remarkably adorned.
Yesterday (how embarrassing!)
I saw a woman with the same outfit
as mine. She was hunched and daubed
with crematorium dust,
shielding herself from the rain.
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Scott Provence holds an MFA in Fiction and an MA in Poetry from the University of Washington.
Jeanne Larsen, The Rock in Mid-Lake Disappears & I Who Might
Joseph Fasano, October