I have stunned the sheep:
slit his jugular
hung him from a rafter
and caught his blood
in a bucket
to paint my doorposts.
But now in the future:
there will be no stunning
no pain-killing hammers
only my arms hung at my sides.
The painting goes on
but there will be
no dying allowed.
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This article is from the
December 3
1976 issue.
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December 3 1976
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