he saves all the bones from every thing he eats,
cleans them, dries them, fits them together
into intricate new patterns that he says
live within the bones themselves –
chicken bones, steak bones, fish bones,
bones from rabbits, snakes, pigeons, possums,
God only knows what –
all wired together, they teeter on every
flat surface in his den, simultaneous
conversation starters and stoppers.
He’d prefer to be vegetarian for the sake of
his health, but you have to suffer for your art
and sometimes for your craft.