Days Without Incident

She broke it off with him before his late night
shift at the plant where he unhooked the slaughtered
pigs from the conveyor belt where they swung
as they descended from the upper floors to him.
He never felt the need to focus since the task
he had before him was as simple as a job could ever be.
That night he couldn’t cut it and just stumble through
the motions like the people there before him had been
doing since before he was alive. He let the corpses
have their ride and hang until they stacked up
to the point where no more progress could be made.
He then picked up the simple blade he used when
certain jaws just wouldn’t open, and began
tearing into all laid out before him.
At first he wasn’t in control and his eyes just pulsed
from darkness to the next lacerated animal
he’d had his words with. There were moments
in the mayhem where he found himself surprised
at just how easy all the shadows came apart with just
a couple heavy swings. All the bleeding made it sound
like their was rain and soon with all the screaming he
became the only thing the building saw.
All the pieces of the pigs began decaying on the floor
there were no more and he was left there only breathing
in a mask made out blood. They walked him out of there
with the knife still in his hand and when they fired him
they kept his final check. He’d be back there two
weeks afterwords, on the line again, a black hook
through his neck.