Butcher Babe

People have no idea how I pay for my rhinestone bra, pleaser heels or Catherine D’Lish gown.

People enter the speakeasy through a hidden door in a coffee shop to drink lighthouse gin and nibble kimchi croquettes. People watch me dance under red lantern lights in my agent provocateur bra and panties before splashing naked in a metal tub in the middle of the bar.

People have no idea that as I sway my hips and purse my lips I think of seam cutting the myoglobin underblade muscle for chuck steak with my Friedrick Dick breaking knife. People drink Elena Penna gin from Italy like they used to drink hooch with Bugsy Siegel and Lucky Luciano.

People stare as I touch myself underwater fantasizing about ripping the skirt off the rib section of beef, with no idea that scalding birds in hot water is one of the easiest ways to remove their feathers.