if you are pro-war,

pro-death penalty,

and anti-gun control 

then you’ll need a new title

I looked up the word “humane”

in your dictionary and, holy shit, 

you are not going to believe

how wonderful it sounds

We were protesting violence 

when violence met us 

Gun in hand, firing 

The diagnosis was terminal,

the patient’s suffering evident,

from being battered and neglected 

through her many years

My screams

are the only things

that will escape today

When we tell people 

nothing can change,

we are ignoring history

If they sounded to us like lions

or elephants or seals,

we could call them unintelligent,

never hearing their appeals

Two slices of death

from the bleeding remains

of the mothers whose babies

we ground into veal

Dirt from the grave

graces their otherwise

distinguished appearance

All plants have protein

Every single fucking one!!

Our packaging is stale,

out of touch,

old school,

reeking of 1990s

You can oblige the change from 

Prince Rogers Nelson to a singular moniker 

or even, for a time, (insert image here)

There were millions of us

splashing and bobbing,

not knowing how much longer

we could stay afloat

When will continued shouts 

of “I can’t breathe” 

be enough 

“I need meat to eat,

that is perfectly clear,

I have canine teeth”

Just like the deer

Essential, we called you, as you placed our packages near our tightly closed back door

If you were Christian, and the president of your country called for a complete shut down of all Christians entering the country,

“Isn’t this fun?” 

the father says to his son

I couldn’t vote in

America until, like,

That is, if your way

is ground muscle tissue,

capillaries and blood,