Dovecots are about fo fall down.
Greyhounds die hanging
from the trees
and dogs chase deer
Until shot dead.
Pork keeps getting cheaper,
More abundant, tastier,
High fat diet.
Pigs overfed on garbage
live unconciously,
produce noise
and defecate at will.
Toads in held up,
stinking,
polluted waters,
belch and reproduce
happily adapted
to their environment.
Snakes creep,
they move unseen,
they hiss their misery
when they perceive
the prey
they kill
effortless.
Silence remains.
Discretion is required,
Cooperation is welcome,
Docility, please.
Meanwhile,
unstoppable
the order of truth
moves forward.
A bleak picture, but of poetic worth. You draw upon a great tradition, updated for these times. - Will
Tis not survival of which you speak Rather, it's adaptation in the bleak Working world we inhabit Continuing, as if by habit. Animals, dumb creatures that we are Exist as if we have no care, It's 'root hog, or you'll die' Free range or in a sty, Adaptation is the daily bread To which we all are wed. That's the truth to which we abide In the comic world of de Sade. s
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
... a fine composition indeed! no waste of words. neat and clean.......10+