Vegetarians look away.

Well, I skinned those pheasants.
In the alleyway behind the back of the flats.
It was like trying to get wet, tight, long johns off a two legged pug.
At one point a woman came around the corner on her mobile,
smoking a fag. She took one look at me, my hands down
the feathery pants of an unidentifiable bloody animal
stopped in her tracks, stared, then backed off.

If we had been in a film, she would have been
a tramp drinking from a bottle, he would have looked at me,
then the bottle, and thrown the bottle away.