Filet my empty gut and slow cook
My insides to put in a sandwich
Or with scrambled eggs; I am
No different from those flat-faced,
Thick pink muscled fish that I eat.
I cut myself gils and swim upstream
Against the current along with them,
But even though I have a brainstem
It doesn't make a difference. I am
Out of control and under their control.
I envy with anger their brain dead
Unawareness of their fate or actions.
I tried to return to where I was spawned
And almost lost my mate along the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment