By Moristotle
[Originally published on June 26, 2014, not one word different.]
What a plight to be of the human race –
grabbing everything, claiming every place,
eating all kinds of animal
(no laws yet make it criminal) –
were I pig or cow instead, I’d have no face.
All you can eat, the big restaurant’s big sign said,
any creature you want, we’ll catch it and make it be dead,
then grill, stew, fry, or boil it,
bake, roast, fricassee, or broil it,
and if you want we’ll serve it up with next door’s annoying dog Fred.
My dad made me go hunting, said it was okay
to pull the trigger on the wolf who I couldn’t say
deserved to die.
For a moment, I
aimed along the line where sight of my dad lay.
| Copyright © 2017 by Moristotle |
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