Chandelier

Above us hangs

a chandelier of beating hearts

the hearts of generations past

of cherished pets

of pigs and hens and cows

slaughtered

for us to eat with greasy

laughing fingers

 

music plays in amongst

the clink of glasses

the scrape of cutlery

the shrieks of joy

and fear

but silence bides its time

and in that silence

muffled thumps

 

hidden in the weaves

and piles below

are pinprick specks

of fallen blood

barely

rarely noticed

reminding us of death and life

before

and life and death

to come