A brim is a category. an expression of tradition, an edge
that is not to be crossed. its word is never
rebutted: under the brim there is often a head,
a house, a rare and arrogant nothing. the head, if
that of a cow, is pierced with a steel bolt. the cow
is first chained to the damp walls of a barn, and then
struck fiercely. the blood gushing is the blood of
the homeland. the cow had long claimed it its own, with its teeth.
if the head is that of a chicken, it is picked off with an axe.
the chicken is simply taken, transferred somewhere else,
placed on a chopping block and the neck is quickly & coldly
met with a blade. the chicken keeps shouting for a while, but
no one can hear it. a rabbit is slaughtered with literate, bare hands.
the blood stays within the body and flows, with its suspicious
past. the ears, on which it hung from your hand until now are
calm, as if nothing can be heard in the woods, nothing
is happening. fields are quiet. countries are quiet. the homeland
from somewhere drips, and people harvest grapes. the heat
is unbearable. what is a brim and what is there under the brim?