the slaughterhouse, the cooking room.
A dark passageway, all the walls wet and over there a young man racking up a firehose. He watches you pass by. The smell in here is overpowering.
Posts tagged ‘the killing rooms’
Oct 11
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byron bay crowd control – 1964 – a proven method
Rip an unborn calf from the womb of its dead mother and let it stew a while in the summer heat, then transport it at the dead of night to the Pass campsite wherein sleeps The Tribes of Unwanted and deposit this decomposed matter within their midst.
a home of bones and charnal dust
The high rafters of the cooking room hide platoons of giant rats; sleek, fat, black and fed to bursting from their nightly foraging from the split edges of the bags
doug, the hopperman
Doug stood up and backhanded him twice to the wall, all splintering glass now, and spilt beer and dumbfounded shock
the loading gang
Myth has it that Archie, Head Ganger twenty years ago, deliberately knocked over one of these office maggots with an open side of beef and the exposed rib bones sliced away half of his face.
the hide room
Lightless ponds that rise from time to time and issue a swell of virulent discontent from a deep rupture unmeasured.
the slaughterman
hooded men from the freezer rooms muffled up in layers of rags and old sacking, slaughtermen with their bare forearms and faces crusted with heavy sprays of blood, local toughs wearing scabbards full of razor edged knives.
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