Lamb to Slaughter

(The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want.)

Were you there
when he made me
do those things?

God, why didn't you save me?

I sit here in this church's pews
and try to hear your voice;
all I hear is the sound of sheep bleating.
They are insane.

(The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want.)

Should I be like Abram?
Well, I did better: one year
I witnessed a lamb being slaughtered;

each of her legs spread and tied between
two poles, butchered and warm.

I bounced on that trampoline;
my face is a blank page.

They took a knife
to flay the skin off.

(My voice is
inside my flesh;
alarm bells
in my mind.)

I am a lamb to slaughter,
but still I breathe;
he bled me dry
and sacrificed me.

So God, what is left of me?
You are dead like me.

Oh God, one last thing:
the lamb, she tasted great.