Rachael Inciarte
remember the goat strung up the mesquite
our neighbors in the front yard
flaying the carcass
butterflied legs and belly split
tree roots bathed in blood
I sometimes wonder how much of the body
my children recall
the color of raw meat
in their memory christmas
bulbs blink light into open eyes
there are many ways to celebrate
seems the best way to explain
the strips of skin
hung like ornaments
and snow white gleam of bone
a smell of iron and lick of flame
how different really is a spit
from an oven or
a pot from a roast
when we are all burning?
***
Rachael Inciarte is the author of the chapbook What Kind of Seed Made You, published by Finishing Line Press and 2022 Eric Hoffer Award Honorable Mention. Their work features in Poetry Northwest, Spillway, Kestrel, and others. Rachael lives in California with family and can be found at www.rachaelinciarte.com