#meateating

Poema:          

 Digestion.

(Wrung hands, towel drying)

    Carne.

  Cerdo.

  digestion.

processed ham steak,

I cut into pieces, but

digestion still seems like a joke,

for these tight little squares

 sizzling strips of bacon

grease fat pop

the oven alight in a morning light

in a warm winter

kssssss, the sound

broken down,

burnt,

ready

to compliment.

 I release the bacon vents in my head pores,

I steam like a rice cooker, toxins out

protein stays

I am highly evolved.

 The pig winks and looks at me

he comes back to the scene of the crime,

he is in a realm of etherdivino-morality now

he oinks

he talks to his friend.

they are separated by miles

they still pound the dirt the grass the pens.

treated relatively

WELL.

Falling down the well

I now call out to them

they oink I can hear it

I understand for a brief moment, this darkness

stretches out before me.

I must be going to the other side of the world.

darkness.

 I remember them being chopped up. piece by piece,

the skin in protest,

visions of wholeness stripped down

before ever starting

the psychology of my packer

geography

direct facing

direct facing

coming to peace,

boiling inside to out,

befalling a cynicalation

of an entire nation.

swept up in the heat,

the flame

wrapped in plastic

we wait under the stars

expecting the best

hoping the worst.

 She oinks, he oinks,

in the darkness.

Contact with Ham 7th week winter quarter

Notes: Friday. Omellette spliced with ham, using half of my last slice of ham steaks that has taken me a month in this life to go through. I don’t plan on buying hamsteaks again. I need respite from the small guilt and unhealthy I have come to associate with ham

the ham came to the omellete naturally, I did not seek out ham with my breakfast rather I needed to fill an omellete, and why settle for just veggies.

Saturday. Another omellette, now I am trying to finish the last half of the ham steak slice that is now all alone in my fridge. Wait a second, “Yining do you want an omellete? I’m making enough for two people.” “Sure!” My lovely roommate replies, “Hey want some bacon? I’ve got bacon.” “Oooh OK!” I reply. “Alright I’ll throw a few slices on. Hehe.” We eat in the sun on our front porch.

That afternoon I go for a run and I can FEEL the two pigs, the bacon based boar and the hamsteak boar, meeting and perhaps fighting in my stomach. This passes. Like all things.

Sunday. At the dining hall. I am loading up from different stations, while trying hopelessly to avoid, wheat, dairy and soy, because of my current diet. I see some bacon just SITTING there already crispy and made. I add a slice to my shmorgus board. I don’t even enjoy eating it. :(

 REFLECTION (process) NOTES PIG MEAT. HAM. PORK. BOAR.

These are some major things on my mind that prompted me choosing pork. This summer I remember thinking for the first time seriously about giving up meat, going at least vegetarian. It was some ham deli sliced that prompted this thought, as it coursed through me. I don’t know why but it felt unclean.

 In Spain this fall, going with the flow, pork was a part of my diet. Perhaps a staple. The ham of Spain comes with Christian, national and local pride. It is an experience. It comes in different forms, but the prosciutto like thin ham es lo más famoso. With some bread and cheese. In class we learned about Jewish and Muslim and Christian culture. Ham was certainly a divider in practices among many. Christian having accepted a doing away with dietary restriction laws 2,000 years ago ate ham like their faith depended on it. Muslims and Jews often did not. In my Syrian Muslim friend’s restaurant, he did not serve pork. His restaurant was a haven away from ham. Ham consumption was so high in a certain southern region of Spain that, a specific cancer rate associated with pork was majorly elevated there. The burden of ham.

It was a relief coming back to the states and easing off meat, and ham a little.