when prince wen hui
witnessed
the cutting of the ox,
the beast dissolved
as if it never were.
when the cook cut the ox,
ox, cook, prince and blade
vanished into the void between
the cleaver and the flesh.
& so your mind
(in one twenty-five-century-instant)
is touched by the
edge of the razor & your heart
engaged in the butchering
of the ox.
there is no need now, for the
kitchen or the cook, the
saucepan & spices, the
glowing oven with its iron door.
you’re ready to swallow
the ox as he is,
whole and with horns––
& while you’re at it
you can swallow your self.