Just Poultry (poetry)

Our hearts are not with us, gone without prayer to passage

We are packaged separately, for the consumption of dogs?

The empty cavern inside us, to be filled with amenities

We have never known love, poorest of poor relations

Little brothers of Eagles, with no such symbolic protection

Bred and born, to die; no chance of extinction, or escape

But we used to be able to keep our parts with us

Before we were separated by economic discovery

Her ritual sorrow is sincere; imagining she is Montezuma

Whose spirit has entered the cutlery corner, in kinder form

To perform a softer, more genteel, sacrificial ceremony

With words for the multitudes, and soft yellow babies

Food for thought, one and the same, apples to bananasImage

And by chance miracle, we arrived to the platter, intact!

Every bite, only one, actually, was cause for celebration

The virgin’s life power, definitely male, I’m not laying eggs am I?

Belongs to her, who thinks, sometimes, she’d rather be Vegan

The President Of Dinner Affairs, was not asked for a Blessing

Instead, she said her own, Thanks and apologies, directly to us

With a Devil may care attitude, speaking to, and of, the least loved

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