Someone wrote in [community profile] poetree 2012-08-02 05:15 am (UTC)

Poem for Progeny

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?

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