Almost Interesting

I’m not very adept at writing poetry, but I wanted to express an I idea I’ve been mulling around in my head as of late. Any feedback? Can you tell what it’s about?

Conception bittersweet,
Exquisite child borne too late,
I’ll cradle you in perpetuity,
Swaddled to my breast.
Promises of summer manifest precocious,
As one-by-one I pluck your green fruits.
Dante for Beatrice,
Shuffle off your sad mortal coil,
Swaddled in cellophane,
Immortality granted through death.

Roman and I went to the Farmer’s Market at San Francisco’s UN Plaza today where we I bought a ton of mushrooms and some edamame. We were still searching for avocados when we came across a stall selling live quails, confined to stacked crates, 5-7 birds each. About four people were clamoring over the birds as Roman and I walked away. We didn’t get far before I started crying over the unfortunate birds. Just who do these people think they are? Confining frightened animals to cages only to destroy and devour them later. Quails don’t exist for this. No animal does. In my mind, I keep seeing those people from the stall picking up the birds and ripping out their fragile little throats with their teeth. Fucking monsters!

Ironically, Ro and I went to a Taco Bell today, which is also a KFC. I had a veganized value menu item as Ro devoured cow flesh smothered in beans. The pictures in this restaurant were especially disturbing. Each picture was of happy, healthy-looking children, prominently displaying a bucket of assorted chicken carnage. Imagine if you will, happy-looking young kids holding buckets of slaughtered infants with the same sappy smiles on their faces. That’s how I see it. Filthy little monsters: they’re so terrible that they don’t even realize what they’re doing.

In Korea, they hang dogs by the neck and beat them to death with baseball bats because they believe the adrenaline-filled meat makes men virile. Does this repulse you? It does me. This is just one among so many lies about the benefits of consuming animal products. You know, like the whole “drinking bovine mammary fluid makes kids healthy!” Bullshit. Cruel industries have so much to gain by your believing their lies.

I find myself becoming more adverse to obese people these days. This isn’t because of how they look, but how they got there. You can’t become that big without eating a lot of animal flesh. Think about it! You’d have to eat all day, every day to get that big on a plant-based diet. You’d probably even find yourself hard-pressed to get that large on a balanced omnivorous diet. I keep seeing these people in my mind shoving raw steaks into their gaping mouths, grease slathered all over their bodies, blood dripping from their teeth, eyes glazing over at the thought of consuming even more innocent animals. This may be why I hate myself even more these days. I know the scale says I’m dropping weight, but when I look in the mirror, I keep seeing the 222-pound poker that I was almost a year ago. I keep dreaming of myself devouring animals with the obese men in Rascal Scooters. Sometimes I wake up and cry. Why did it take me so long to realize what I was doing?! I must be a monster, too. I dry my tears on my size-10 pants… and it makes me feel a little better.

I’m still crying a bit over those quails. They were beautiful little birds, and all those wretched monsters at the market today cared about was how they’d taste in a cranberry dressing. I hate you! I fucking hate you!