You wanted to be a butcher by Paskat3 Lyrics

You wanted to be a butcher
but they made you be a lawyer.

You brought home presents
when it was nobody’s birthday.

Smashed platters of meat
she cut against the grain.

Were a kind
of portable shrine—

I was supposed to cultivate a field of bliss,
then return to my ordinary mind.


You burned the files
and moved the office.

Made your children fear
a different school.
Liked your butter hard
and your candy frozen.

Were a kind
of diamond drill, drilling a hole
right through my skull―

quality sleep, late November.