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Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer

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The Flensing Knives. (Danish, flense, 'to strip the skin off.') opus 852

29 May 2026 2322 Hours Ethics, Anatomy, Anthropology, Biology, California, Conservation, Food, History, Mammalogy, Memories, Migration, Mortality, Poetry, Politics, Science, Zoology
A sudden explosion
And the harpoon
Flies out, over the water.
A body contorting.
Blood blends with the sea.
The body is tied to the boat.
A long voyage to the California coast.
The body slides upward,
Multiton in size, tail first,
On a long shoot
Towards the knives.
In through the huge door
And they are upon her.
The flensers with spiked boots
Walk up her body,
Flensing knives in hand,
Cutting deep through the blubber.
Black outside, 
With a white margin and base.
Piece after huge piece
Is peeled off with a winch,
Crackling sounds as it folds backward.
The body is now flesh alone.
The dissection continues
Until only pieces lie here and there.
Dismembering is completed.
The flensers with their
Long handled knives 
Have finished their job. 

I was a student biologist.
Now it was only to know
Where the meat was destined.
I learned in my young life's case,
All the flesh was destined
For Kalcan Dog Food.
Today, sad and illegal.
Basically, I had witnessed 
Many murders of fellow creatures.