A pound of flesh.

Being a doctor must be strange. One must look at the people differently. Butchers are no doctors. They have the relief of knowing they are cutting dead flesh and the worst that can happen is you fuck up the tenderloin. But after just two weeks of separating muscles and cutting meat off of bones- slowly learning the basic skeletal muscular structure of mammals- we are looking at all four legged creatures and bi-pedals differently. We see how meaty the shanks are. Where the atlas bone is- making it easy to separate the head in one quick cut. Where one would remove the loin from the ham. It's strange how the daily abstraction of the animal form- into parts, sections, and commodities- trains one to objectify and systematize all bodies. We can only imagine how a doctor must begin to see people.