The Chicken
Every year, more than nine billion slaughtered—
Raised in modern day concentration camps,
Though six weeks old, the ones to be butchered
Hang upside down, legs bound by metal clamps.
No room to breathe, to urinate, or to
Stretch their wings freely, to feed as they should,
I wonder if they know the sky is blue.
Does it really matter? We eat our food
Without qualms, unmindful of the broken
beaks, and drive to McDonalds when hungry,
to order look-alike nuggets again.
Like us, with ears they hear, and eyes they see,
And imagine if only they could speak,
Having seen the horrors, they'd call man the freak.
Day and Night
Milked again and again,
the cow leaks blood and pus
in every liter extracted,
sores on its udder.
The marvel of modern medicine,
antibiotics, are injected so she may be
milked again and again.
Only pregnant cows give milk,
which is why with metal rods
men painfully inseminate them.
Dead cows can’t give milk,
which is why they are torn apart
to make leather and cow feed and medicine.
Sometimes, the dead dairy cows,
hanging upside down, brain-dead,
give birth prematurely.
These young ones, too,
are slaughtered to make suede.
No comments:
Post a Comment