I slice the meat on the conveyor belt.

Some of my body parts throb.

I barely get a bathroom break,

At this factory farm job.

Guts of animals spill out.

A constant stream of gore.

All this speedy butchering,

Has started to make my hands sore.

I finally have had enough,

Of these torturous weeks.

This job I have at the meat plant,

Entails harm and it reeks.

I go to my boss’s office,

The man who called me family.

With impatience from his voice he spouts:

”What do you want with me?”

I tell him about the conditions,

That puts me through living hell.

The injuries, the accidents,

The terrible, rancid smell.

”Why should I care about that?

Safety costs too much.

The fines don’t even cost me a dime.”

The boss says, making my soul crush.

The man who called me his family,

Now treating me as a machine.

He files his paperwork,

Sipping from a cup of caffeine.

His greed and carelessness angers me.

I begin to see red.

I grab his falsely earned workplace award,

And put the base of it to his head.

I stand over the bludgeoned body.

His face looks like tomato sauce.

An idea springs into my head,

On what to do with the boss.

I leave the meat plant early.

The time right now is 4:39

I wish I could hear the workers screams,

When they find his body on the line.