this poem is my gift to you in this prelude to the new swine flu we all feared, but who really knew?
who knew these sweet and noble beings? live confined in their own shit and vomit on concrete beds beneath artificial light? thank god they can not think and feel like we do.
well who really knew? it did not say so on the pinkish styrofoam or even on the news.
if i said i knew you would hang me from the highest tree for lying to your children.
if i said i knew you would put your hands around my throat and choke the words inside of me.
in this time we have to dance tonight in this sweet twilight of an era i will say that i forgive you and tell you that i love you and that is the truth.
this way has been passed down from mother to baby father to child like faery tales of santa clause and jesus we flash our funny little teeth and pretend to be carnivores something about killing someone else makes us feel immortal something about someone else's flesh can taste like heaven for a moment.
the world is alive her strangled seas her burdened air her sweet pigs most noble and loyal of creatures sweet sweet pigs.
who knew the consequence of commodifying sentience? pigs so different from us on the outside but to a virus perhaps not so different from the impoverished worker who had to kill mothers and babies over and over until he was de-humanized
who knew that even a penny of our purchase went to the man who came home with a pandemic? it didn't say so on the cellophane dripping with blood it only said cook to a proper temperature and everything will be all right.