The Brazilian Chainsaw Massacre

The machine revs 
blades cut into flesh 
for hours scarred hands push
ripping into the…
At last, it clatters to the floor
and everything is silent. 
It lays there among the 
blood of its victims. Victims or family? 
One and the same
staining the cold steel 
of vicious teeth
lifeless lumps drowned, slaughtered.

Branches crunch, snapping beneath feet
Red sap oozes from ripened wounds
Foliage, green,
scattered,
lost… 
as hands gain another scar and token.
The tree remembers 
but the axe forgets.