I badly fear feuding cattle,
Vexed into a ferocious battle;
An endless shudder at the goring horn
To them granted when they were born.
I could imprison the defecating cattle
And off and on heatedly rattle
About their messy-looking hilly dung,
At all corners of an expanse, filthily flung.
But I do pity the knife-facing cattle,
Just as I would an on-a-slab-turtle,
Of resistance dispossessed, no less of mettle;
To soon in active kitchen pots settle…
I could Imitate journeying lazing cattle,
This intently doing and not a little,
If my destination be an object funeral,
No lucky grabbing of a bottle of mineral.
It rained rose red blood as
overwhelmed skies wept
in disbelief as to the dastardly
depths humankind had fallen,
as jazz hands ignore the signs\
of ignorant garbage tripping
an earth in retrograde dumps
mindlessly burying an epic fail
mid plastic strewn parking lots,
paved of filthily neglected density,
shrouded 'tween polluted disregard
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