We started eating meat raw. Steak with blood in the core, sausages peeled from the case. We ate with our fingers—forks were outlawed—and we licked marrow from under the nails. We ate with our heads curled to the table like a comma, like a dog. We reveled in it. We grew out our hair and sharpened our teeth with primeval files. This was wildness, this was a return to when things were simple and better. Everything was simple and better before. We drank milk from the carton and then straight from the women of the pack. We stopped using banks and dug holes in the yard for our dollars to hide with worms. We bear pawed the trees and scratched ourselves to work out the worry that hid between the blades. This helped us forget what was happening over there, both close and far away. When we heard their screams, we howled with fear and lust. When we saw the sirens, we ran after them without shoes so our bare feet slapped the cement. We wanted to see the carnage. We circled our own, then ran to claim the bones.
