hypodermics lined up like firing squad rifles, loaded with Morpheus' mortal brew
at this "humane" place, where we stare in the face of every critter we "put down"
felines, canines, by the score--there will always be more
we do it Thursdays; each gets its own black plastic bag, for a trip to the incinerator
courtesy of the county's grandest
crematorium
that has donated the friendly fire for our four legged friends;
we watch the trails of smoke fill the night sky
there is no Zyklon B to fear--not here, where we use shots instead of showers
and pass the hours scratching the ears and petting the rumps of those we slaughter with sleep
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
hypodermics lined up like firing squad rifles, loaded with Morpheus' mortal brew
at this "humane" place, where we stare in the face of every critter we "put down"
felines, canines, by the score--there will always be more
we do it Thursdays; each gets its own black plastic bag, for a trip to the incinerator
courtesy of the county's grandest
crematorium
that has donated the friendly fire for our four legged friends;
we watch the trails of smoke fill the night sky
there is no Zyklon B to fear--not here, where we use shots instead of showers
and pass the hours scratching the ears and petting the rumps of those we slaughter with sleep
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