An Anvil to The Mind

I have a thing for short poems, I'm practical (fancy for lazy) and I like things to come and go and say what they came to say. so naturally i think i felt attracted to poem # 12.
"The butcher-boy puts off his killing clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market" (Whitman) from the very first line the gory scene unfolds that makes anybody want to boycott beef. And then Whitman describes another type of working man: "Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil"(Whitman) and again this yucky image comes to mind of unattractive men with sweaty armpits and hairy bodies and it is simply disturbing.

You read a line and then regret you did but read the next one anyways. Addictive. Thats how all writing should be.