Slaughter’s Tradition
It is not that I scorn man, but
your greed to slaughter the magnificent elephant
for its tusks. The glorious tiger for its penis.
Will your children love you that much more
for your ivory Buddha made of death? For your
manhood made of dust? For their memories
of your bloodstained hands?
Poem for Progeny
Date: 2012-08-02 05:15 am (UTC)