Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
Meat to Eat
To care is too disastrous for me now,
I die, I die, and I did try this night
To stay alive, from warmth and anyhow,
Like supper; like them and then start to bite.
The steaks do taste with juice, like a melon,
But of the earth, of one small animal,
They happen in an instant - abandon!
One animal will be this abysmal.
I fry the onion, on a bright flame,
I eat those bagels as the little fool,
May seasons take a flame as a small game,
The onions, the onions are tool.
Let one of us so eat the plate in time,
Then share, then share with us, without a rhyme.
Comments about this poem (Meat to Eat by Naveed Akram )
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