This is the day in which the birds die
We’ll watch them fall and dance slowly at a ball
For them
The next day will be that in which the cats die
Because they have no birds to chase
To catch
And we throw a ball for them, too
And the day after that the polar bears will die
But we expected that
And the day after that we’ll hold a memorial
We’ll be dressed like snow and sorries
Dogs will howl, because they know
They are next
The next day is the one in which the dogs die
And nothing but wolves can howl again
Until their day comes
Which is not the next day but
The one after the frogs
The one after the foxes
And then the cicadas
And then the rats -
Even the rats
Even the cockroaches
And we stop giving memorials
We stop throwing ***** because
No one will be able to do it
When our turn comes around.