The Slaughter house

By Anish kanjilal

The Slaughter house

(Inspired by a Nightmare)

Beneath the gruesome canopy of night

From which drizzles darkness, shade by shade.

Stands the tower of silence

Around whose outer ring slumbers flesh

Awaiting the bald heads who could

dig into their diet of carrion

Regurgitate and take off.

***

Underneath the frozen moon,

Around which circles the mist

Gazes the ceremonial blue stones

And rise the fumes in rings from the

incense placed

From afar whispers the hymns

sung by the Mongols.

***

Neath the clouds which frown

at the earth

Angels who alter evil at night.

Banter and chat the “Rogyapas”

Help the soul to move on from the

uncertain plane, between life and death.

Whereas the hawks feed on“Tsampa”

And the yaks walk away to freedom...

***

One must remember

“In life cover your private parts,

In death your face

As in the next world everything

will be unveiled”....

***

Just below the shield of darkness

Slant a craggy cliff

Coronated with varied boscage

Shielding the fire

which sprouts from a pyre.

Down the craggy hill,

Lies a cavern yawning incessantly

with its jaws open

Awaiting and greeting those who

have an appetite for flesh and blood.

While following the ants’ trail, Creep

the perpetrators.

The only difference is places changed,

roles reversed,

As yesterday’s victim today’s executioner

The preys of the past, play the decider.

From the stalactites tied upside down

Hang corpses of men who have undergone cadaveric spasm,

As they were hammered, trimmed, chiseled and daggered

and converted into perfect edibles,

Men who have groaned before death,

But now distended put to silence

like what the star had been before life.

Livor mortis

Rigor mortis

Doesn’t matter,

Skin slippage

Maggot, methane

Would be a platter.

Blood drips on, floods the floor

The poo filled intestine dragged with

force lie, scattered down by the door.

A satire sounds macabre indeed

For the vertebrate scavengers

Another day to feed.

Though the soil is stained, grim and cold

Everyone has food and everything

is sold.

On stony racks lie dipped in ethanol

Some fresh human babies,

Whereas few with pock marks,

skin ripped, chopped heads with

mouths sipping out fluids

stand to be devoured.

The foul smell of hydrogen sulfide hovers over

the plutonian world

with Bugs laying their eggs on the human nest,

Indeed a perfect specimen of mental

conjuring of moldering cadavers

what hunger has lured.

Leather belts

tanned wallets

is all that matter

Liver and kidney

Wigs and jackets

the demi Lord lies scatter

Now the social animals sacrificed

to appease the Testament

But what is justice, is that the

verdict has changed.

Now the rites of Taurobolium

well performed to gratify Avesta,

though the perforated platform

is the same, but the Minotaur

is clenched.

Now the books of Moses though

followed word to word

Though Exodus and Genesis

Guide the way,

But it is Man who is pegged to the guillotine

and Justice has its day.

***

The Appendix

***

Caught in a coop, me and many

awaiting our turn

Grinded in fear, besmeared with faeces

Trembling to get blended in a churn.

Hopping helter — skelter, won’t save us

Sticking together, won’t help the mass.

Someone there yells his last cry

floundering in agony, no prayer but

only sigh.

The Legend of Maori, come out to be true

With our flesh on beam balance

with no one to sue

While the walls of the cavern

Painted with hue

Echoes for no mercy

As avenge is due…

‘’FEAST OF SACRIFICE” ;

Is yet to be trialed

‘’CORRIDA DE TOROS’’;

Answer the petitions filed

GADHIMAI and YULIN

Brothers in hand

The world will be a better place

Once you are banned’.

By Anish kanjilal