A primeval dog waits for

A piece of flesh, born

As the condom of the religious preacher bursts.

 

The very day he was born

Someone, it’s said, told him

Meat is delicious!  

Meat!

Before his first utterance could be-

Mother!

He’d already cried out loud.

 

His steps before seeking for life

Progressed on the search for meat

 

The city’s renowned eunuch told him

That he’d get it through celibacy-

He cut off his phallus just for meat

 

Come lords! Come ladies!

A nice bargain! Wonderful bargain!

Take this weed, and get meat!

He began spending nights with weed junkies

 

One phony poet proclaimed to him-

I find meat in Poetry!

He began living Poetry

 

Forget thyself, and meat shall be yours,

Said some lunatic-

He lived up lunacy

 

Meat’s in the junk!

He picked up the entire city’s trash

 

You idiot!

Why go elsewhere for meat?

Worship me, you dirty fur!

Said the renowned meat-seller of the city,

He stuck like the slimy clump

And kept on waiting!

 

When

A horde of world-weary souls told him

Meat resided in death

He is plagued by the dilemma of what to choose:

Death or meat?

Meat or death?

 

He now reckons

Had no one told him of meat

How would life have been spent?

 

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