deepundergroundpoetry.com

Bull Fighting

Who would wean a walrus cub
or crack a pup seal with a club.

Who would walk a rescued stray
or gamble which dog dies today.

Who would scrub small Indian ears
or pull out tusks for souvenirs.

Who would climb to see them rut
or crosshair sights inside a hut.

Who could drag a scented trail
or let the hounds rip head to tail.

Who would farm and let bulls be
or caustic burns around each knee.
Author's Note
The treatment of animals, this poem came about after reading an article on what happens to bulls before they appear in front of the would be beast slayer, needless to say its pretty grotesque and it got me thinking about the other pointless killings driven by supply and demand.
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